Healing

 

It's been a while since I last wrote, but hey, here I am again. This time, let's talk about healing. We’ve all been through this process at least once in our lives—where you find yourself trying to recollect the pieces that are left of you. Whether it’s from trauma, love, or emotional turmoil, healing is a deeply personal journey that only we truly understand ourselves.

Healing has never been an easy fix. It’s not something you do once and magically feel whole again. It’s a winding path, full of twists and turns, where you slowly regain the parts of yourself you thought were lost. As much as I'd love to dive into healing from different struggles, my experience lies in healing from love, or rather, a broken heart. And that’s what I’ll share—a journey of picking up the pieces after heartache, navigating the pain, and learning to live again.

Parting ways or breaking up with someone you're truly in love with is by far the most terrible feeling I’ve experienced (though, let’s be honest, it still doesn’t surpass the pain of coming back from school only to find your older sibling ate the food you’d saved for later—but that's a story for another day). Healing from a breakup, though, takes time. It doesn’t happen all at once; it comes in waves, slowly washing over you, rather than in one clean shot.

First up comes the pain, the shock, and a bunch of other feelings you can’t even put into words. You can’t believe the relationship is really over, especially after everything you’ve been through and all you were willing to sacrifice to keep it going. Still, you try to convince yourself it’s not that big of a deal, that the pain will pass soon. But it doesn’t.

The memories start to haunt you, especially those late-night moments when you’re just lying there, staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m. And as if on cue, Google Photos hits you with those "on this day" memories, reminding you that you don’t have a boo anymore. Social media feels like a minefield of relatable reels, and suddenly, you don’t even want to talk to anyone or scroll through anything. You shut yourself off from the outside world, beginning the long, hard journey of healing.

Then comes the anger. You start pointing fingers, thinking about how they could have handled things better, or how a different solution might have saved the relationship. Maybe you start blaming yourself, wondering what you could have done differently or if you didn’t try hard enough. Your mind replays every argument, every moment, and you start building scenarios—"what if I’d said this when they said that?" or "if I reacted differently, maybe we’d still be together."

Then there are the thoughts where you wish you never got together in the first place, just to avoid the pain you’re feeling now. You overanalyze every little detail, trying to piece together why it ended and how it could have been fixed. Absurd conclusions and "what ifs" flood your mind, and somehow, even if they’re not rational, they feel like they’re helping lighten the weight on your heart.

Just when you think you’ve finally gotten over them, the relapse hits. You believe you’ve made progress, that you’re moving on, but then something small triggers all those buried memories. It could be a place you used to hang out, a movie you watched together, their favorite snack, or even just the scent of their perfume. Suddenly, with just one reminder, you’re back to square one. The pain feels just as fresh as the day the relationship ended, and the wounds reopen, making you wonder if you’ll ever truly heal.

You start questioning if it’s even possible to recover from this kind of loss. The emotional setback is overwhelming, and you find yourself withdrawing from everything. Loneliness becomes your comfort—being by yourself feels better than being around people. Socializing feels odd and uncomfortable, and even being in a crowd makes you feel out of place. You start to embrace the solitude, because in those quiet moments alone, it feels easier to manage the pain.

You never really know when you’ve fully healed; it strikes you when you least expect it. The memories still pop up now and then, but they don’t come with the same pain or hurt. You can pass by a shop or mall without subconsciously searching for their favorite snacks, and that familiar whiff of their perfume might waft by, but it feels normal now—no rush of emotions or nostalgia.

You find yourself vibing to that one song that once brought joy or sadness, and it doesn’t evoke the same intensity. Instead, you start opening up to new experiences and genuinely considering moving on. You focus on rebuilding yourself, setting boundaries for future relationships rather than dwelling on the past. You invest more time in personal growth, reconnecting with friends and activities you drifted away from during the tough times.

Healing isn’t just about letting go; it’s also about embracing new experiences and opening yourself up to new people, even after going through pain. While the scars of the past may remain, they  serve as reminders of your strength and resilience as you welcome new opportunities for love, friendship, and personal growth.

👀the end