Sometimes, when you least expect it, a blow comes out of the blue that just takes you down and knocks the wind right out of you. I had one of those yesterday. A sudden hit that rips through your heart like a knife, leaving you breathless and physically in pain. A pain so severe and unexpected that just breathing hurts. It’s hard to stand; hard to see through the tears.

I opened my mailbox to discover a package. When I turned it over, I recognized it as a package that I had sent before Christmas. It contained trivial items—some airplane Christmas ornaments—but I had sent them to someone I love dearly, just because I saw them and we had once talked about him bringing some of the things he had loved back into his life; things his former wife had phased out.

If the package had simply been returned by the post office, I would have been disappointed that he didn’t get them, but not hurt. That wasn’t the case; it had been delivered. What stunned me was the note on the top.

Refused to pick up.

The one man I had loved since I was 16. My first love. The one who came to me last summer and told me he had never stopped loving me, and that letting me go was the biggest mistake of his life. Then he abandoned me. Again. And as if that wasn’t enough…

Refused to pick up.

It hurt more than I can describe. And there was no one to comfort me.