I already understood that sometimes, the kind of love we think is “enough” to love someone isn’t always what’s enough to love ourselves. But do you know why knowing so much makes it feel worse than ever?
Because it doesn’t fill the space they left.
It doesn’t hold your hand. It doesn’t say “I choose you” back. It doesn’t sit beside you when you’re feeling too much. It doesn’t undo the absence.
It’s hard. Really hard. To be torn between feeling too much and nothing at all.
It’s like I can see myself—while I, myself, am floating.
In this heavy, foggy place where peace hasn’t arrived, but hurting feels too familiar to leave behind.
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