Today I found out that you are engaged to her.
She showed off the ring with her hand on top of yours in a very poetic, perfect Instagram picture. My first reaction was jealousy.
How come you got away seemingly unscathed while I mourned your loss for a year? It seemed so unfair. I breathed in and out.
For the very last time, I wondered what she had that I didnʼt.
I soaked in the sting that I would never know your reasons and, no, you would never be mine. Then I realized, you wouldnʼt have made me happy nor would I have made you happy.
What I, also, realized is that I donʼt care. I am finally over you. It was like finding the last remaining sliver and gluing it in place on my heart. Sure, my heart isnʼt the exact same as it was before you.
It is better.
You were my first true heartbreak but my heart has character now. Sure, its edges may be a bit jagged but it is stronger than before. It is more beautiful. It beats
I thought about you that night and a small amount this morning but the amazing thing was, I didnʼt cry.
I didnʼt torture myself over you.
I didnʼt keep looking at your fairytale pictures.
I went for an early morning swim, I went shopping, I decorated my room, I sang to the radio, and I excitedly planned a date for next week.
So, yes, I once loved you. You once broke my heart.
Now, you are going to be married to someone else.
You both have beautiful photos of the occasion. However, rather than this destroying me, my night still turned into day this morning. Clouds still drifted across the early sky. And as for me, I am still happy.