NextRepFit

I close my eyes and can still feel the warmth of those early mornings, when kisses were soft as sunrise, and laughter echoed through a kitchen bathed in golden light. I believed, with every fiber of my being, that this was the great love story I’d read about in novels: two hearts intertwined so perfectly that even the stars themselves would envy our constellations. I dreamt of a life built on whispered promises, sticky-fingered breakfasts around a noisy table, and bedtime stories read by the glow of a single lamp.

I had it, all of it. The laughter, the light, the future sketched out in broad, hopeful strokes. I pictured tiny hands curled in mine, a home warmed by the smell of fresh bread and the silliness of impromptu dance parties in the living room. In my mind’s eye, I saw family photos lined up on the mantel: smiling faces framed in love and trust, a testament to a lifetime spent together.

But somewhere along the way, I let my own reflection grow faint. I silenced the small voice that whispered, I need space. I ignored the gentle urge to refill my cup, thinking love meant pouring endlessly until there was nothing left. I was so busy pouring that I forgot to feel the weight of my own heart, forgot to tend to the dreamer inside me who needed care, too.

And now, in the stillness of absence, my heart aches with the echo of what might have been. I grieve not only for her warmth beside me, but for the promise I failed to keep with myself. I lost sight of my own needs, my own worth, and as that glow dimmed inside, the world we built began to crack.

This devastation is mine to own. It’s a confession and a liberation: I failed to guard the garden of my own soul, and in doing so, I watched parts of our shared dream wither. No blame lives here now, only the sharp clarity of accountability. Because the truest love story is the one we write within ourselves before we can fully give to another.

Today, I stand at the threshold of a new chapter, one where I choose to honor my own light. I carry the memory of morning sunlight and laughter in one hand, and a redemptive vow in the other: to tend to my heart as fiercely as I once tended to everyone else’s. I may have to walk away from the life I dreamed, but I will never abandon the dreams within me. For in learning to love and respect myself, I lay the foundation for any love that follows to stand on firmer ground.

So here’s to the broken dreams that teach us our worth, to the quiet heartbreak that guides us back home, and to the fierce hope that, one day, love will find us whole again, worthy not because we sacrificed everything, but because we finally saw our own value shining brightly in the mirror.

My happy place and future residence.