RoadKill

i dont want to bombard my loves poor phone with anymore messages so i will just stare at him.

Breaking up with my ex was probably the second-best thing I’ve ever done. The first was getting together with the love of my life, and finally learning what it feels like to be treated with real love.

Love isn’t perfect. It’s not symmetrical with every problem solved before it starts. It’s messy and human, like the body. And just like the body, things go wrong sometimes. But instead of giving up, it heals. It works together to fix itself. Your body doesn’t disrespect itself—it doesn’t self-sabotage. It hurts for a reason: to move toward healing.

Healthy relationships work the same way. Something goes wrong, a miscommunication, a fight, a wound—and you don’t just let it fester. You work through it. You talk, you fix, you grow. But when someone is actively hurting you, the healing doesn’t happen. It’s like a body that’s constantly reinjuring itself. It simply can’t get better that way.

Every single piece of my self-esteem that was stolen from me had to be picked up, one by one, by the man I’m with now. And I’m forever grateful—for his patience, his care, his willingness to work things out with me.

I’m so glad I’m not being sabotaged anymore. I can relax and love like I’ve never had before. Even when my body is tired, sick, or unmotivated, I know I’ll bounce back—because I’m putting in the effort. And now, I’ve got someone to come home to at the end of it all.