Losing someone for good, or for as good as you think, feels like waking up from a beautiful dream only to discover it was not, in fact, real. You have this feel all day, not just the morning. The dream was what used to be, and the shocking reality is that it’s not anymore.
It feels like those mornings when you wake up, aching and disoriented from a night of binge drinking, and reach across the bed, only to find it empty, cold. You’re alone.
It feels like how the sky looks after a storm, bleak and white. It feels like the aftermath of a storm, debris everywhere, messy and in need of repair.
It feels like 3 AM, chain-smoking cigarettes until my lungs ache, staring at the pieces of myself surrounding me, and knowing that, for the first time, I have to put myself back together. Alone.
Wait until you know what you want. Wait until you know who you want.
It’s then, and only then, that we realize how our “first loves” have so little to do with love, and so much to do with us.