He broke me. He broke me to a point where I hope I never see that version of myself again.
The version of myself where I’m on the bathroom floor crying so hard I’m throwing up.
The version of myself where friends are checking in on me they are so concerned about my well-being.
The version of myself where someone’s absence made me feel less about myself and how I questioned how’d I’d make it through a day without him.
But hating him wouldn’t have made it easier. The truth is it wasn’t just him I had to forgive. I had to forgive myself for letting someone impact me so much that he had such power and influence over me. I had to forgive myself for choosing someone who wasn’t reciprocating all I had to give.
So before I could even forgive him for the pain, I had to forgive myself too.
And as intense as those feelings were on one end of the spectrum that’s how great it was on the other end. Because it wasn’t always bad.
I forgave him because I wanted to just be loved.
I loved him. I loved him with everything I had in me. And I can’t regret that.
Love isn’t something we choose so don’t be so hard on yourself when your heart chooses the wrong person. Even with the “wrong” love we learn.
And maybe it didn’t work out the way I thought it would. But I still look back at all of it as a whole as one of the major experiences of my life.
Because life is about the love we find along the way, in others and in ourselves.
Powerful