Sometimes I wonder how I ever became this version of myself—someone who can’t even look at a man without feeling that sharp sting in my chest. I used to believe in love so easily. I trusted too quickly, gave too much, cared too deeply. And he took all of that—my feelings, my money, my faith—and twisted them into something ugly.
He promised me forever while he counted the things he could take from me. He looked into my eyes and lied so effortlessly, as if my heart were nothing more than a game he wanted to win. I replay everything in my mind, trying to understand how someone could use affection as a weapon, how someone could walk away after destroying what they once begged for.
I’m tired—tired of pretending I’m fine, tired of carrying this bitterness around, tired of feeling foolish for ever believing in someone like him. It’s not that I hate every man in this world… it’s just that right now, all I can see is the damage one man left behind. And it makes me want to close every door, guard every part of me, so no one can ever do this to me again.
Maybe one day I’ll trust again. Maybe one day this anger will soften. But today, I just need to let myself feel it—the disappointment, the betrayal, the resentment—because that’s the only way I know how to start healing from what he did to me.
