Lent 2025 Day 3: When The World Ends

When the World is Ending, Who Do You Want Beside You?

"Ah, it's been a year now 

Think I've figured out how 

How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out..." 

JP Saxe & Julia Michaels ask in "If The World Was Ending" whether their ex would come over if everything was falling apart. It’s a romanticized, tragic “last chance” kind of love. 

And honestly? I’ve thought about that question before. If the world was ending, would I want her to come over? 

Absolutely not. 

She didn’t respect me, my boundaries, or my heart when it mattered. Why would I want her to be the last person I saw? Why would I invite back someone who emotionally manipulated me into thinking I was the problem? Someone who—when I was at my lowest, grieving the loss of my mother—couldn’t even muster an ounce of decency, compassion, or respect? 

That’s not love. That’s not even basic humanity. 

She was never capable of offering me the care I deserved. I see that now. And yet, for too long, I still held onto the pain she left me with, turning it over in my mind like I could somehow make sense of it. 

But here’s the thing: Some things don’t deserve to be revisited. 

We romanticize what broke us. We glorify co-dependency, narcissistic cycles, and relationships that crushed us—just because the good moments felt intense. But were they really that good? Or was it just all we knew at the time? 

Because sometimes, we don’t just grieve people—we grieve the idea of them. The potential we saw in them. The love we thought we had. But romanticizing an unhealthy relationship doesn’t make it love. Love isn’t about holding onto someone who didn’t hold onto you. Love isn’t about mistaking intensity for intimacy, chaos for chemistry, or co-dependency for connection. 

"I know, you know, we know 

You weren't down for forever and it's fine 

I know, you know, we know 

We weren't meant for each other and it's fine..." 

And that’s the truth. Some people just aren’t meant for each other. And that’s fine. But what’s not fine is revisiting the places that broke us, reopening wounds that have barely healed, or believing that being treated badly was somehow proof of passion. It wasn’t. It was just proof that I deserved better.

Lent is about releasing what no longer serves you. It’s about recognizing the places where we’ve been stuck and choosing to move forward instead. And I have moved forward. I don’t hold space for resentment anymore—I don’t need it. I don’t wish them misery or happiness. I wish them distance. Because the only people I want beside me when the world is ending are the ones who have always treated my heart with care. The ones who have loved me well. 

Grief and healing look different for everyone. I’ve carried my share of loss, but I’ve also learned how to honor my grief without letting it define me. I’ve learned that closure doesn’t come from someone else—it comes from deciding that you no longer need answers from people who were never going to give you the truth. 

So no, I wouldn’t want that ex to come over if the world was ending. Because when the world feels like it’s falling apart, you want the people who hold you together. 

And I already have those people—my family, my friends, the ones who have always taken care of my heart. And for that, I am endlessly grateful. 

"When people show you who they are, believe them." – Maya Angelou 

Lenten Reflection 

As I move through these 40 days of reflection, I’m letting go of the things—and the people—that no longer have a place in my heart. Because healing isn’t just about moving on. It’s about moving forward. 

And I am. 

So, no. I don’t want her to come over if the world is ending. I want the people who have always chosen me. And I thank them for that, every single day. 

Be well, stay safe, and take care of your heart.