My relationship

of four years finally came to an end.

The relief I felt after the mutual split has now worn off, and I find myself in a daydream, remembering the beginning, experiencing a same-sex relationship for the first time with someone who did truly love me at one point, and I her. Somewhere along the line though, I morphed into a shadow of the woman I was. It was like I kept the real me locked away because I knew I had to protect her from my other-half's constant negativity and ridicule. Now that we're finished, I'm slowly remembering the things I loved to do, without the anxiety of waiting to be told they're silly. I am a bit of a dreamer, but I always believe if I put the work in then I will be successful, no matter the unlikely endeavour. I know I'm feeling lost at the minute, as the familiar mist of depression settles over me in a post-break-up haze. But I will rediscover who I am. I will relearn how to trust. How to smile again. How to be around people again. And the next person lucky enough for me to let them in, will be more worthy than the one who tore me down before.