Dear Friend,

Today feels heavier than most. My heart is still raw, like an open wound that refuses to heal. I keep replaying everything, trying to make sense of why it happened. Why he left. Why she was enough, and I wasn’t.

I’ve been asking myself questions all day. Does my life mean nothing now that he’s gone? Am I worthless because he chose someone else? And the cheating—God, it feels like a crime against my very soul. Is it silly to think it should be illegal to break someone this way?

It’s like the ground beneath me has been pulled out, and I’m left stumbling, searching for balance. Every part of me wants to scream, to cry, to ask him why he did this. But what would it change? He’s not here. And deep down, I know I won’t get the answers I’m looking for.

I tried to remind myself today that my life has meaning beyond him. It’s so hard, though. It’s like everything good I ever believed about love is tied up in the version of us that I thought was real. But I can’t let his choices erase me. My story is more than just this heartbreak. I know that—don’t I?

Am I worthless because he couldn’t love me? No. No, I’m not. Love isn’t about my worth. It’s about connection and timing and so many things that are out of my control. Just because he didn’t see my value doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It’s hard to believe that right now, but I need to.

And the cheating—it’s like a slap across the face every time I think about it. I trusted him. I gave him all of me, and he shattered that trust like it meant nothing. It wasn’t just a betrayal of our relationship; it was a betrayal of who I thought I was to him.

The hardest part is the silence. I sit here, staring at my life like it’s rubble, wondering if I even have the strength to rebuild. Why should I? It all feels so pointless.

But then, maybe within this wreckage, there’s a chance to start over. Not to restore what was lost, but to build something new. Something better. I don’t know if I believe that yet, but the idea is comforting.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about giving up—on love, on trusting, on even trying. It feels safer to close myself off, to say, “to hell with it all,” and hide. But I can’t let this define me. Not forever.

And what is love, anyway? Is it the perfect fairytale I thought we had? Or is it messier, more complicated? Maybe it’s both. I just know that next time, I need it to lift me up, not break me. I owe myself that much.

I wrote something today—just a little piece of me trying to find hope in all this chaos:

In the silence where echoes once danced,
Where laughter lingered, now just a glance.
A heart once bloomed, now feels like it’s frayed,
But within every tear, seeds of hope are laid.

Each fracture a story, each ache a rebirth,
A testament to love, to loss, and to worth.
So gather the pieces, let the healing commence,
From the depths of despair rises quiet resilience.

A castle may crumble, but dreams never die,
For the heart knows no limits, it learns how to fly.
Through storms and through shadows, I’ll forge a new light,
With every new dawn, I’ll reclaim my own flight.

But you know what, friend? I’m learning that heartbreak is a part of this beautiful, chaotic existence. It hurts like hell, but it also reminds me that I’m alive, feeling, growing.

To help myself get back to some kind of normal, I’ve decided to try a few things. Here’s what I’ve planned, like a little prescription for my heart:

Morning walks in the park – Breathing in fresh air and moving my body helps clear my head and reminds me that life still goes on.
Journaling – Writing out my feelings, no matter how messy they seem, is helping me make sense of my emotions.
Learning something new – I’m signing up for a pottery class next week. It feels good to think about creating something beautiful with my hands.
Connecting with friends – I’ve been isolating myself, but I know I need to reach out. I’m planning a coffee date with my closest friend this weekend.
Yoga and meditation – Even 10 minutes of mindfulness a day is helping me find moments of peace in this storm.
Setting small goals – Whether it’s cleaning one corner of my room or cooking a new recipe, little victories make me feel like I’m regaining control.
Volunteering – I’m thinking of joining a local charity. Helping others might give me a sense of purpose and take the focus off my pain.

You’re with me on this journey, and together, we’ll explore the depths of our experiences and find the strength to rise again.

With all my love,
Butter 💛