Ohh goodness, a twist of events.You would be shocked.
Rejected.Left holding a space where I will forever imagine you.A space carved in my heart that will never quite close.
Love is unpredictable.It comes in curve balls,like rivers changing course overnight,carving canyons where they once flowed gently.You can prepare, brace yourself,but forget to ask the other personif they are ready to meet you in the same river,if they are ready to be held as you hold them.
When you said,"You are my dream woman, but unfortunately, I prioritise physical intimacy in my relationships,"it hit me like winter wind cutting through thin skin.
For a brief moment, I thought I was lacking.And I asked myself,"Oh, you are actually not crying?"
I was numb.Defeated.Out of words.My mind blank.Torn between keeping my morals intactand holding onto someone who would never choose me fully.
I have heard this song many times,enough, silly me, I don't know what I was thinking.How I let my heart imagine somethingthat it should have recognized as impossible.
Your small gestures, your attention,meant more than I can describe.They let my little self giggle again,like sunlight breaking through storm clouds,brief and golden.And yet, even that light could not erase the shadowsof the truth that followed.
That is the measure of how much I loved,how deeply I trusted the Creator to allow me to love you.It is proof that even my heart, shattered and tender,can still reach outward.And that is okay.
The reality was brutal.Different alignments, different strings,different life experiences, and dreamsthat did not intersect with mine.
This is what dealing with disappointment feels like.It is quiet, heavy, and relentless.It is learning that love is not always reciprocated,and that your capacity to give does not guarantee its return.It is the slow sinking realizationthat sometimes you are the only one showing upwhile the other person is absent in ways you never imagined.
I was forced to reckon with my own worth.To see that I am not defined by someone else's inability to hold me.That rejection does not erase the depth of my love,nor the value of my heart.That my tenderness is not a weakness,but a gift I am meant to protectuntil it finds the soil that can nurture it.
It is such a pity that we grow in a societythat prioritizes physical intimacy over emotional presence.That intimacy has become transactional,measured by the touch rather than the heart.I had hoped for a best friend in you,someone who could walk beside me in silence and laughter,but the fragments of my imaginationfooled me once again.
I am a rare piece of flower,planted in seasons that require patience,watered by tears, strengthened by storms.My spring will come.I will bloom again.I will grow taller than the shadows of disappointmentthat once tried to bend me.
Unfortunately, this is goodbye.I was less important than fleeting desire,less valued than something shallow and passing.And yet, I release you with love,not bitterness.
One day, I hope you find your peace,your joy, your home.As I am learning to find minein the quiet spaces left behind.
And in that quiet,I realize this:disappointment is not the end of the story.It is the teacher who carves patience, resilience,and unwavering self-love into the heart of a girlwho refused to settle for anything less than sacred.
Breathe, Breathe...
Don't cry.....