much less how it felt to love him.

if falling in love for the first time is like a sweet dream then

experiencing your first heartbreak is like sleep paralysis. we—the

love we had—became the phantom crouched at the foot of my bed,

and i was stuck, forced to watch the moment it all came crashing

down again and again. eventually, i could move my fingertips

underneath the covers. eventually, the phantom faded from view. i

woke up. stopped loving him. moved on.

in many ways, love still feels like a dream and losing it still feels

like i’m pinned to my bed by something invisible, with no choice

but to relive those final moments over and over again, staring into

the eyes of the person who now holds my crumpled heart in their

fist. but now, love is a dream that i know i could wake up from

any moment. i still float through it but i’m not as surprised when

the alarm clock rings. i’ve grown to understand that it always

rings exactly when it’s supposed to. and as far as heartbreak goes,

i still haven’t figured out how to make those initial moments any

less terrifying and painful. i don’t think i ever will. but i don’t let

myself get trapped there anymore. i know how to breathe, how to

slowly wiggle my toes, then my ankles, then my legs. i know how

to set myself free. the ghost at the end of my bed is a lesson, not a

nightmare. it always has been. i’ve just been too scared to realize it.

one time, i loved a boy who tried to erase every part of me and

recreate me to his liking. i’ve spent a long time fixing the mess he

left. i made myself into somebody the old me probably wouldn’t

even recognize. that was almost five years ago. the person i was

then feels almost further away than the person i was five years

before that. i don’t think i could find her no matter how far i

reached. i don’t even know what i would tell her—one day you

won’t even remember the sound of his voice? i couldn’t say that. it

would be a lie.

when that dream, if you could call it that, finally ended, and

the phantom appeared—that was the only time i welcomed it. i

watched the end of us and i didn’t flinch. i said, i was right. this was

the right thing to do. i said, i needed to wake up.

i said, you may be scary but you can’t hurt me here.

i would’ve bloomed regardless

you can tell people

that you made me

into who i am today,

that you molded me

with your own two hands,

that my being bears

your signature.

but the truth

is that i always knew

i was destined for greatness.

i didn’t need

you to break me

to trigger some

great transformation.

you see,

before you came along,

i knew i was beautiful.