The first time I got my heart broken—really, painfully broken—I remember feeling too ashamed to ask for support. I didn’t talk about it with anyone because, at the time, there weren’t many people I trusted with such a raw and tender part of myself.
I cried a lot, so people around me knew something had happened, but looking back, I think it’s tragic that I had no friends or family I felt safe enough to open up to.
No bestie to cry into a tub of ice cream with. Tragic, but also a bit revealing. Like all painful experiences of loss, it eventually became more bearable.
I resumed my regular routines. Heartbreak is just another part of life, and we move on as time passes, right? It was over a decade later when I chanced upon a letter I had written to my ex shortly after our breakup.
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