My heart is a heavy, restless thing, constantly yearning yet never content. Have you ever felt that? Sometimes, it feels like carrying a stormy sea within me, with waves that crash unpredictably, churning and pulling me toward desires I can’t fully name. Other times, my heart feels like a vast, untamed forest, dense with emotions, regrets, and longings, beautiful yet overwhelming. This heart of mine is both blessing and burden—a challenge I’m slowly learning to carry. 

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As a Christian, I know what it means to run to God in moments of need, hoping He’ll help me find clarity in all this chaos. But often, even when I receive the blessings I prayed for, I let them slip away, only to return and ask for what I just lost. This cycle is my heart’s constant rhythm—a push and pull that both defines me and, at times, exhausts me. 

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I hadn’t fully grasped the weight of my heart until recently. Like a forest with hidden depths, it holds more than I can fully understand. This depth makes me feel things intensely, and it shapes how I connect with others—often with a fierceness that even I can’t control. Impatience is one of my biggest struggles, especially when people don’t meet my standards or fail to push themselves as hard as I do. My best friend, someone who stood beside me for years, lost my trust, and though I wanted to forgive, I couldn’t fully let him back in. Similarly, my relationship with my girlfriend, who is quiet and gentle, tests my patience. I find myself wanting her to strive for more, to dream bigger, yet in pushing her, I feel our connection fray, as if my heart’s desires are too heavy for us to carry together. 

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This heart isn’t just heavy; it’s also insatiable. Like an infinite vacuum, it devours emotions, friendships, dreams, and yet it craves more. My circle of friends shrinks as I struggle to express my anger without cutting deep. At times, I let my words spill out carelessly, simply to prove a point. I’ve hurt others, not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t yet know how to balance the weight of this heart. 

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But I’m learning. Self-awareness has become a guidepost, helping me understand these patterns and how I can change. I’ve started journaling, exploring my thoughts on paper, letting myself see the raw truth of what I feel and how it impacts those around me. Meditation and moments of quiet reflection give me space to breathe, to pause before I react. I’m learning that boundaries don’t mean pushing others away—they mean giving myself room to grow, finding peace in the spaces I create. 

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I’m also beginning to understand that forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconnecting. Sometimes, letting go is a gift we give ourselves, a way to ease the weight we carry. I’m learning to forgive others not by reopening old wounds, but by finding peace within myself, by understanding that everyone carries their own heavy heart. 

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For anyone who feels the weight of a restless heart—know that you’re not alone. Maybe this weight isn’t a burden, but a reminder of the depth and strength within us. Perhaps the heart I carry is guiding me, urging me to look inward, to understand the parts of myself I still have yet to explore. It’s like carrying a compass, one that’s sometimes difficult to hold but always pointing toward growth. Maybe this heart isn’t something to fear, but something that, even in its heaviness, holds light enough to guide me forward. 

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                                                                          Written By: Darlington Sehgbean