If you are anything like me, you are sitting there this morning with your usual cup of coffee.

The house is quiet.

And the Sunday newspaper is spread out before you on the bed or kitchen table.

There is a specific kind of comfort in these pages.

It is a sense of connection, a way to get in touch with the community that you just cannot seem to find anywhere else.

I realize, of course, that I am likely talking to a specific group of people.

We are the ones who still value the feel of the newsprint.

Although I know many of you are reading this on a computer screen, smartphone or tablet.

You are scrolling through our website before you begin your day.

Or perhaps you are skimming these pages in the early evening hours.

No matter, whether you are holding a physical newspaper in your hands or are clicking through the digital edition, I would like to ask a favor.

A small one.

If you are holding the paper, grab a pair of scissors.

If you are online, hit the print button.

Because today, I am writing something that isn’t really about us … for we have already lived it.

No, this is for the ones whom we love more than life itself. The ones who might never look at a newspaper at all.

They could be our children, more likely our grandchildren, who are living in the world of TikTok trends and Instagram filters.

They are bombarded with information every second of the day.

And yet, so much of it is fleeting.

It is all “likes” and “shares” and swipes.

Rarely, if ever, does it touch one’s soul or offer the kind of perspective that only comes with a few decades of living.

There is only so much weight that the human heart can carry before it feels as if it is shattering into a million pieces.

I know firsthand.

But there is a lesson I would like to pass along to today’s and tomorrow’s children.

It is about lost loves and carrying that heartbreak.

We watch them hurt.

And our hearts break right along with theirs.

Because we know exactly how that suffocating darkness can feel.

When you are in the middle of a breakup, it doesn’t feel like just a temporary setback.

No, it feels as if a thick, heavy blanket of wet winter snow has fallen over your entire life.

And with it, it buries just about every path forward, making you believe the sun will never be warm enough to melt it away.

You stay up until the early hours of the morning, crying until your eyes are swollen, convinced you have lost the only person who could ever make you whole.

You think they were “the one,” and that without them, you are fundamentally broken.

But as an adult looking back through that rear view mirror of life, I can honestly tell you with absolute certainty: That person you are mourning? Most of the time, they weren’t “the one” at all.

In fact, if you were to see them 10 or 20 years down the road? You would likely realize how God saved you from making an enormous mistake.

We grow up, and we change. And those people we once thought were the pinnacle of beauty and charm?

Well, we usually see their looks fade and the spark they once had, dim.

Time isn’t always kind to the physical.

But more importantly, time reveals character.

That person who seems so indispensable today will eventually become a name you will one day struggle to place.

I can honestly tell you that for all of those nights I spent believing my heart had suffered irreparable damage and that I would never stop feeling that unbearable again — today, I can’t even remember those boys’ last names.

The devastation I felt back then? Well, it almost feels foolish now.

Though I know it was very real at the time.

I want my grandchildren, my children, your grandchildren, to understand that God knows when we are not with the right person.

Sometimes, the “no” we receive from the universe is the biggest blessing we could ever get. Even though it certainly doesn’t feel like it at the time.

We are taught by society, by social media, that we need to find our “other half” to be whole.

But that is one of the biggest lies you could ever be told.

You are a complete person all on your own. Trust me. You do not need to end up with someone to find happiness or to have a life that is full, meaningful.

Sometimes the most important relationship you will ever have is the one you have with yourself and your creator.

It takes time — more time than we want it to — but eventually, that hurt fades away. A little at a time.

The snow melts. The ground thaws. And you eventually realize you are still standing.

You will find that the heart is incredibly resilient … much more so than we give it credit for.

So, save this.

Tuck it into a card. Leave the printout on the kitchen counter where a hurting teenager might find it.

Remind them that the world hasn’t ended. Even if it feels like it has.

Tell them that one day, they will look back and realize that the person they are crying for today was just a chapter in a much longer, much more beautiful story.

It does get better.

I promise.

And the ones who are occupying space within your broken heart? Well, chances are that one day, you probably won’t even remember their last names.

(Stenger is the community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times newspapers. She can be contacted at jstenger@heraldstaronline.com.)