Love is good

From the outside, I looked fine. I went to work, I showed up for my friends, and Mama G was still checking that everyone had eaten and got home safe. Nobody saw that I was quietly putting myself back together. After the breakup, I had to face something uncomfortable: I had given so much, and it still hadn't been enough to fill what was missing in him. I wondered if I had loved too hard. So I did something I had never done before. I gave that love back to myself. I stopped rushing to fix, to comfort, to be needed. I learnt to sit with my own company and to be alone without feeling lonely. It wasn't dramatic or glamorous. It was small, quiet work: honest conversations with myself, early nights, and long walks in a city that had already taught me how to breathe again. I finally understood the lesson I had learnt the hard way. You have to heal your past before you start a new relationship, and that applies to me too. It took about a year. And when love found me again, I wasn't looking for someone to complete me. I was simply ready.