By Taitana
I’m guarded after heartbreak. Here I am curling my hair, picking out an outfit, and lining my lips in the mirror like I’ve done a hundred times before. But tonight, I’m not nervous. I’m guarded.
Not because of who he is. But because of what I’ve been through.
I Have Lost Count Of The Heartbreaks!
The last time I let someone in, it was a slow fall.
The kind that feels safe, until it doesn’t.
Where you build a life, have a baby, say “I do”…
And still get cheated on.
Before that, there was the first one.
The man I thought I’d grow old with.
We had two kids, a whole history.
He was my beginning.
And he betrayed me, too.
So now, when I’m getting ready to meet someone new,
It’s not excitement I feel.
It’s a quiet voice asking,
“What’s the point?”
I left the first one for the second.
And the second broke me worse than the first.
So was it worth it?
Did I make the right choice when I walked away from the man I started with?
If the ending was going to be the same…
What was the lesson?
I don’t say these things out loud.
People want healing to look like hope.
Like I’m over it, moved on, glowing.
But real healing has questions.
Doubts.
Heavy moments when I stare at my reflection and wonder if I’m getting dressed for another disappointment.
Still, I put on the heels.
Spray the perfume.
Tell my sister I’ll text her when I get home.
Something in me, even now, wants to believe in the possibility of better.
Wants to believe I’m not cursed, or broken, or bound to keep repeating the same ending with different names.
But I won’t pretend it’s easy.
I won’t pretend I’m excited.
I won’t pretend I’m fully open.
I’m just… trying.
Again.
So what do you do when love has failed you more than once?
But your heart still whispers, “Try anyway.”