LOST

The more I do things alone, the more you disgust me.

I wanted to feel special, wanted to be appreciated, and to have someone who valued spending time with me, not just because of routine but for the joy of being together.

I lost HOME the day you left me

"I don't want a perfect love." I just want a safe one. A love where hands are gentle, where words don't cut, where I'm not punished for needing more. A love where leaving is never the first thought.

nobody talks about how exhausting it is to live in that space between "things will get better" and "i can't handle this anymore." it's a quiet, relentless tug-of-war where your emotions keep swinging without ever settling, one moment you're holding onto hope, convincing yourself to stay strong just a little longer, and the next you're completely drained, wondering how much more you can carry. it's waking up with belief and going to bed feeling defeated, existing in between healing and hurting, trying to survive the same day that both breaks you and keeps you going, and the most terrifying part is realizing you don't know which side of yourself will win tomorrow.

You are still my partner but you're no longer my safe place. We still text every day. We still say "I love you." But something has changed. I don't come to you when my anxiety spikes. I don't reach for you when your distance hurts. I don't feel safe enough to tell you what I'm really feeling anymore.

An avoidant man believes that living under the same roof and breathing the same air counts as spending time with you.

Accountability is so important to me. Nobody's perfect, but don't try to flip the script and make my reaction the issue when your actions lit the match.

if he asked me to be his wife i would say yes in a heartbeat. But if i had the chance to never have even met him I would also say yes.