Today, I Blocked Someone On Instagram.

I literally went from begging to IDGAF if you leave attitude. I'm tired of the push and pull. So if you don't feel we could work out then ok fine. No one's gonna force you to stay. So I'm glad I toughened up like wow, I can't believe this is me now.

Some moments cut so deep they become woven into who we are. Choosing to close the door on someone who brought so much pain isn’t just a decision; it’s survival. In the quiet spaces of my heart, I still hear the echoes of betrayal, disappointment, and heartbreak. Whenever I think of letting him back in, a wave of loathing rises up, reminding me that stepping back into that pain would mean losing myself all over again.

Let’s be clear: there are people who take and take, leaving nothing but a hollow shell in their wake. He was one of those people. The way he twisted my trust into a weapon against me was nothing short of monstrous. I loathe him, not just for what he did, but for the way he made me feel—small, insignificant, and unworthy of love. He took my vulnerability and used it as a means to manipulate and control, and the sheer audacity of that betrayal is enough to make my blood boil.

The memories haunt me like phantoms in the night. I remember the promises made, the tender words whispered in the dark, and the way they all crumbled like ash in the face of reality. He was a storm that wrecked my peace, and now, the thought of inviting that chaos back into my life makes my stomach churn. I would rather drown in despair than suffer through another chapter of torment that he would bring.

It’s infuriating how someone can waltz in and out of your life, leaving you to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart. I have spent countless nights wrestling with the demons of self-doubt and despair he unleashed upon me. I have fought against the notion that I am somehow responsible for the pain he inflicted. But now, with every ounce of strength within me, I declare that I will not let him back in. I refuse to be a victim of his charm once more, a puppet in his twisted game of manipulation.

The agony of betrayal runs deep, and the scars left behind are reminders of the strength I’ve found within myself. The choice to keep him out is not just about protection; it’s about self-respect. I would rather die than endure the suffering of reliving the torment he caused. The thought of opening that door, of offering him a second chance he does not deserve, fills me with a deep, aching dread.

So, I stand firm. I choose to honor my pain rather than let it fester into something more destructive. I refuse to let him back in, to allow his toxicity to seep into my life once more. Every moment spent apart is a testament to my resilience, a reminder that I have the power to reclaim my life from the wreckage he left behind.

To anyone who finds themselves at a similar crossroads: choose yourself. Choose peace over chaos. The road ahead may be paved with heartache, but it’s also a path toward healing and strength. Embrace the emotions that arise—let the anger and sadness wash over you, but don’t let them define you. You are not a product of someone else’s actions; you are a warrior who has fought and survived.

In the end, my decision is not just about him; it’s about my freedom. I will not suffer the consequences of his choices any longer. I will not allow the ghosts of my past to dictate my future. I close this chapter for good, sealing the door with a promise to myself: I am worthy of better.

There’s something irresistible about seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, isn’t there? The way everything glows with possibility, how hope somehow softens reality’s harsh edges. I’ve always been that person—the one who walks straight into the fire, not quite realizing until it’s too late that I’m bound to get burned.

When I meet someone new, be it a friend or a lover, I’m quick to embrace the beauty in them. I’m captivated by their quirks, their charm, their flaws that I somehow convince myself I can fix. It’s as though I’m spellbound by the idea that, despite what everyone else sees, this connection is different. "No," I think, "they don’t understand." And while the people around me see warning signs flashing like bright neon lights, I remain oblivious, wrapped in the fantasy I’ve built around this person or situation.

Perhaps it’s my unwavering belief in the good in people, or maybe it’s the romantic in me that refuses to let go of the narrative that love, friendship, or loyalty can conquer all. Others whisper in my ear, gentle but firm, “Can’t you see? This is going to hurt you.” But their words are like smoke in the wind—there one moment, gone the next—unable to penetrate the dream I’m living in.

Time and time again, I find myself drawn to those whose hearts are closed off, whose intentions aren’t pure, or whose presence in my life is anything but good for me. Yet, I stay. I convince myself that if I just hold on a little longer, the tide will turn, the light will shine through the cracks, and things will change. I remain, steadfast in my denial, until—inevitably—the story crumbles, and the weight of reality hits me like a wave.

And then, there’s the aftermath. The unraveling of everything I thought I knew, the sudden clarity that leaves me breathless, wondering how I didn’t see it all along. It’s a bittersweet symphony, really—this constant cycle of falling for the wrong people, making excuses, ignoring the inevitable, only to be left standing in the ruins of what could have been.

But I suppose that’s the price of seeing the world in a way that others don’t. I chase after the dream, the ideal, the promise of something beautiful, even if it’s fleeting. And though it often leaves me with scars, there’s something tragically romantic about the fact that I’m willing to risk the fall. Because deep down, I believe that one day, amidst all the red flags I so easily ignore, I’ll find something real, something worth holding on to.

Until then, I’ll continue to stumble blindly through the mess, still hopeful, still searching, and still seeing the world with those rose-colored glasses—until they finally shatter.

Good night!

Any good series recommendations besides Reacher?

And scars are souvenirs you never lose The past is never far

February 16, 2024

I find myself feeling a bit bored and lonely lately. It seems like work has taken over most aspects of my life, and I often crave some time alone to reset and find a sense of peace. Moving on from a heartbreak has proven to be quite challenging, and I genuinely wish no one had to endure the pain that comes with it. It's a difficult emotion to navigate, and sometimes it feels easier to succumb to it rather than fighting against it because it demands to be felt.

Love, as beautiful as it can be, sometimes has an expiration date. There are moments when you're overflowing with love for someone, only to wake up one day realizing that the feelings have changed. It's a tough position to be in, and as one-half of the relationship, letting go becomes the only viable option when it becomes one-sided.

Reflecting on being single, I wonder if it's a stroke of luck. In this state, you can avoid the potential heartache and solely focus on caring for yourself. Enjoying your own company becomes a gift, especially when friends are occupied with their own lives. It's liberating not to worry about upsetting someone just because you didn't get back to their messages. On the other hand, while it can feel lonely at times, I understand that people have their own lives and priorities, and I respect that.

Surprisingly, the highlight of my days is conversing with my therapist. It struck me as amusing that lonely individuals seek solace in paying therapists to listen, and I find myself falling into that category. Loneliness is a challenging emotion, and having someone to talk to about it has become a source of comfort for me.

Daily affirmations

I am healthy, I am wealthy, I am rich, I am that bitch I am gonna go get that bag and I am not gonna take your shit I am protected, well respected, I'm a queen, I'm a dream I do what I wanna do and I'm who I wanna be 'Cause I am me

Thanks, Flo Milli!

I choked on my pill. 😂 Jesus.

Friendships are supposed to be straightforward, right? You trust each other, you have each other’s backs, and you keep the big stuff honest. But right now, I’m sitting with a secret that’s tying my stomach in knots, and I have no idea what to do.

My best friend’s boyfriend—someone I never thought I’d have a problem with—has sent me indecent messages after him opening up about his escapades. At first, I brushed it off. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe it was a weird, out-of-context joke. But it’s clear now that it wasn’t. His intentions are blatantly wrong, and I feel trapped.

Do I tell her? Do I risk being the one to ruin everything? I know how much she loves him. What if she doesn’t believe me? What if it blows up in my face and our friendship never recovers?

But then, how do I stay quiet? Every time I see them together, it feels like I’m lying to her by not saying anything. She deserves to know what kind of person he is. But telling her would mean breaking her heart and possibly being the reason her world falls apart.

I keep playing the scenarios in my head, and none of them end well. If I speak up, I might lose her. If I stay silent, I’m protecting a secret that’s eating me alive. How do you even choose between two terrible options like this?

I wish I had answers, but right now, all I have is this sinking feeling that no matter what I do, someone’s going to get hurt—and I might lose someone I care about either way.

I don’t know about you, but dating apps are a comedy goldmine. Don’t get me wrong—I understand their purpose and how they’ve helped so many people find connections, but honestly, they’re like an endless source of entertainment for me.

First of all, the profiles. Some are well thought out, showcasing someone’s personality and interests, but then you’ve got the absolute gems. The guys who upload blurry photos from 2010, or better yet, a group photo where you have no idea which person you're supposed to be swiping on. Or the ones where they pose with a fish—what’s with the fish?! Is that supposed to reel me in?

And let’s not forget the bios. I’ve seen it all—from overly poetic lines like, “I’m a wanderer looking for my partner in this chaotic universe” to the extreme laziness of, “I don’t know what to put here, just ask.” You get two extremes—people trying way too hard to sound deep and philosophical, or people who are straight-up giving no effort. Both are funny, in their own ways.

The conversations, though, that’s where the real comedy kicks in. Sometimes you get a perfectly fine opener like, “Hey, how’s it going?” Other times, it’s like people forget how to have a normal conversation and come in with, “You’re cute, wanna get married?” I mean, at least they’re getting to the point! But really, there’s no better way to start a day than by reading awkward pickup lines or someone saying something completely random out of nowhere. It's like people are playing a game of How weird can I be?

And then there’s the unmatched confidence some people have. Like, they’ll send one message and if you don’t respond in 15 minutes, it’s either “Hello??” or worse, “I didn’t like you anyway.” What even is that?! The speed at which some people can go from interested to offended is impressive.

Maybe I’m just here for the show, but dating apps, to me, are like reality TV: a little absurd, a little unexpected, and always good for a laugh. Sure, I might be looking for a real connection, but I’m definitely going to enjoy the comedy while I’m at it.