Judging by the title, you might think I’m looking for sympathy—but the truth is, I had already mourned this relationship long before that moment. Not because I saw it coming, but because I had lived through it before. Twice. The second time we broke up, I grieved—silently, deeply—without even realizing it. That was the real ending, the moment my heart had let go. But somehow, we found our way back to each other, or maybe I just convinced myself we had.
This time, though—this time, it was final.
And it couldn’t have happened at a more surreal moment.
I was on a high—having just performed on stage, singing for the first time in 10 years. Five days into my annual 10-day teacher training, surrounded by an incredible community, immersed in work that fulfills me. Life felt full, expansive, aligned. I felt grateful—for my work, for my students, for the relationship I truly believed we were rebuilding.
And then—boom. It happened again [continued in the comments]
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