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I’m not in a hurry but it’s just so fucked up lol

It was 2021, and I had just come out of a relationship with someone who was extremely possessive. It was like I could finally breathe again. For the first time in years, I felt free—free to hold my phone without constantly glancing over my shoulder, free to choose what I wanted to wear, free to spend time with friends, and attend parties without the weight of someone else’s control. It was empowering.

But that freedom didn’t come without its struggles. In the first few months of being on my own, I was hit with a wave of anxiety and uncertainty. I had been so used to someone else dictating my life that I didn’t know how to fully navigate it on my own. It was a strange feeling—after fighting so hard to get out of a relationship that stifled me, I found myself a little lost.

No longer having someone control me was a relief, but it also meant I had to adjust to taking responsibility for everything myself. The simple things I’d once been comfortable letting him handle were now on me. It was daunting, but I reminded myself that I’d fought for this freedom. I wasn’t going to let the discomfort pull me back into old habits.

One of the hardest parts was getting back online and socializing again. I had fallen off the radar for almost two years—no social media posts, no updates, nothing. So when I finally reappeared on Facebook, my friends were shocked. The first messages I received were along the lines of, "Wow, where have you been?!" They were right—two years is a long time to go dark.

Reconnecting wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I struggled to respond to messages and reach out to people. It was like I had forgotten how to socialize after being isolated for so long. I felt out of place, like I didn’t quite belong in the world I’d left behind. I wanted to rekindle friendships, but I was afraid. Afraid of rejection, afraid of the awkwardness, and afraid of not being the same person they used to know.

But little by little, I’m finding my way back. It hasn’t been smooth or easy, but I’m learning to embrace this new chapter of independence. Every day, I remind myself that this journey is mine to navigate, and no matter how slow the progress, I’m moving forward.

My mind won’t let me rest at night

When someone tells me I need to forgive them, I just remember what Taylor Swift said:

"You don't have to forgive and you don't have to forget to move on. You can move on without any of those things happening. You just become indifferent and then you move on."

Do you believe in forgiveness?

"Yes, absolutely. Like for people that are important in your life who have added, you know, who have enriched your life and made it better and also there's been some struggles and some bad stuff too… but I think that if something's toxic and it's only ever really been that what are you gonna do? Just move on. It's fine."

I have peaches in the fridge and I’m gonna eat them now. 🍑

April 3, 2024

Day 1:

How do you define grief? It's like trying to capture the essence of a storm in a single drop of rain. A tempest that rages within, tearing apart the very fabric of your being. Today, I find myself grappling with this question as I navigate through the murky waters of loss.

Breaking the news to loved ones is an ordeal in itself. Each word feels like a boulder weighing down on my chest, each breath ragged and heavy with sorrow. How do you convey the enormity of loss without drowning in your own tears?

The restaurant was charming, the kind of place you’d only stumble upon if you knew exactly where to look. Warm lights cast a soft glow over the table, and the hum of quiet conversation filled the space. We had been talking about everything—our favorite places to visit, the movies that shaped us, even our love-hate relationship with dating apps. It was one of those nights where everything felt easy. Until the food arrived.

The waiter approached, carefully setting a large, beautifully arranged seafood platter between us. Shrimp, mussels, oysters—the works. The kind of dish that would impress any other date. But for me? It was like watching a horror show unfold in slow motion.

I froze, staring at the plate as my stomach sank. The last time I’d come into contact with seafood, I ended up in the hospital, my throat closing before I could even realize what was happening. The mere sight of it was enough to send my heart racing.

“Everything alright?” he asked, noticing my hesitation.

I glanced up, not wanting to make a scene, but there was no avoiding it.

“Uh… I’m actually allergic to seafood,” I said, my voice quieter than usual.

His eyes widened in shock, and for a split second, I saw the panic flash across his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said, his hand immediately going to his forehead like he couldn’t believe his own mistake. “I didn’t even think to ask. I swear I’ll double-check next time!”

I couldn’t help but smile, even as the waiter, who overheard, swiftly took the plate away to replace it with something less life-threatening.

“It’s okay,” I replied, waving it off, though I couldn’t quite hide the nervous laugh that followed. “Happens more often than you’d think.”

He looked relieved, but the guilt still hung in the air. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, his expression sincere.

“No, really, that’s on me. I should’ve asked. I don’t want to accidentally kill you on a first date,” he said with a grin, though the joke barely masked his embarrassment.

I laughed, the tension breaking a little more. “Yeah, that would definitely put a damper on things.”

As we waited for the replacement dish, the conversation flowed again, though with a few seafood-related jokes sprinkled in.

“I’ll be sure to stay far away from shellfish from now on,” he added with a sheepish smile. “You’ve made me rethink my entire seafood-loving existence.”

“Well,” I said, “at least you’ll never forget this date.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No chance. Next time, I’m asking about everything. I’m talking allergies, preferences, zodiac signs—whatever I need to know to avoid another seafood disaster.”

I couldn’t help but be charmed by how quickly he turned the situation around. It wasn’t just that he apologized; it was that he genuinely cared. He wasn’t trying to brush it off or make me feel like I was overreacting. He was thoughtful, and the way he handled it—so effortlessly kind—was something I didn’t expect but appreciated more than I could say.

As the night went on, it became less about the seafood mishap and more about how we laughed through it. That small moment could’ve been awkward or embarrassing, but instead, it brought us closer. His genuine concern and the way he quickly promised to do better next time told me a lot about who he was.

When the new dish finally arrived—this time a seafood-free option—he grinned. “Now, how’s that for a safer choice?”

I smiled back. “Perfect."

The night wrapped up, and as we left the restaurant, the cool breeze brushing past us, I found myself thinking about how one small mistake revealed so much about someone’s character. It wasn’t about avoiding errors or being perfect; it was about how we handle those little bumps along the way.

As we said goodnight, he leaned in and said, “Next time, it’s on me. And I promise, no seafood.”

“Deal,” I said, laughing. “Just steer clear of lobsters, okay?”

We parted ways, and as I walked home, I realized something. It wasn’t the flawless date that stuck with me—it was the way he turned a near disaster into something that felt like the beginning of something real. A small mistake, yes, but one handled with so much care that I couldn’t help but look forward to whatever came next.

No I love yous

attachment issues?

I was wondering maybe...