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I asked him if I was “the one,” half-teasing, half-hoping, but maybe love is less about recognition and more about repetition: two people choosing, until one day, it’s true.
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Perhaps in a utopia where interactions are frictionless, friendly breakups could lead to friendships, but in this world, I severed the connection completely. Out of sight, out of mind – and at last, out of orbit.
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Bruises may be inevitable and past relationships can leave us bitter, but they can also leave us wiser, sharper, better able to build something lasting. The only real requirement is letting people in. Bruises mean you’ve lived – and if someone can’t handle that, they were never hungry for you in the first place.
