He didn’t stay. You compromised, you fought, you begged, you pleaded, you prayed, but he let you go. And that is reason enough to let him go.
Lord, help me reject the idea that people will fix my brokenness. I want to find a way to heal on my own. I want to find a way to heal with You.
I’ve let people see what they need to see, but I don’t know if I’ve ever let anyone see the real, unedited me. I don’t even know if I’ve ever let myself see that me.
Something about us just felt right. But I just have to keep reminding myself that he doesn’t feel the same way.
I know this is something very strange for a 23-year-old to think about, but I often think about it—and with this coronavirus outbreak, I can’t help but think about it even more.
It’s time for me to accept blame for my role in the mess that I inevitably end up in post-breakup and choose better guys.
Like any true Netflix fiend, I too fell into the “Does it spark joy?” craze. What’s interesting is that my mind translated it into something entirely different from what Marie Kondo intended.
I’m tired of holding onto this feeling, but I don’t even know how to let it go. I’m tired of dealing with my anxiety, but I don’t even know how to fix it.
If we’re not, like you said: we’ll find other people to love and who will love us back.
We even lost the person that we fell for. It’s funny how that happens. You start to hate everything about the person that made you love them in the first place.