If you still read these.
I lost my soul person yesterday. && the hardest part is knowing it was by my own hand. I keep replaying it, like if I look at it long enough I’ll find the exact moment I should’ve chosen differently… softer… quieter… better. But I didn’t. && now I have to sit with that. I get it now, sister. I really do. I used to wonder how someone could have people who love them, people reaching, calling, trying… && still feel so far gone. I used to think love would be loud enough to save you. Strong enough to pull you back. But it’s not like that, is it? Because when your heart is this tired… when your mind has convinced you that nothing will ease it… it doesn’t matter who’s standing in front of you with open arms. It doesn’t matter how much they care. They can’t touch the kind of hurt that lives this deep. && that’s the part no one understands. Everyone keeps trying to make this smaller than it is. Calling it “nothing.” Saying it’s something I’ll get over. But this… ...