Walking away
Chicago, October 15, 2022. It was 8am - windy, like always. I was in a car, parked across from what used to be my home. Waiting. My ex-wife was flying back from India with her mother. I wasn’t there to say goodbye-I just needed to see that it was real.
New York, October 16, 2024. Two years later. I was walking away again. This time, from what could’ve been love.
I’ve done a lot of hard things in life. But nothing compares to these two moments.
I was giving up on love. Giving up on people who felt like home. Souls who taught me how to laugh and cry in the same breath.
I was giving up on me.
It felt like peeling off a bandage slowly, while pouring alcohol on the wound.
Some days, I wish none of it had happened.
Sometimes, I want to go back to when love was still naive.
But then-what would I know about heartbreak?
Heartbreak makes us feel alive.
It’s proof of courage. Of hope.
We know love might fail us again-and still, we keep going.
I’ve heard of second chances.
But what about third ones?
Do I still have the faith? The energy?
Will I trust myself when that person comes along?
Inspired by: Conversations on Relationships