This past year has been one of the hardest, as I’ve had to navigate the pain of getting over someone I deeply loved. The journey of mending a broken heart has been anything but straightforward. Yet through the struggle, I’ve found that healing isn’t about erasing the love I felt, but about rediscovering myself through the loss.

Heartbreak forces me to confront vulnerability and unearth the resilience that often goes unnoticed in times of happiness. I’ve learned that love, in its intensity, is not just about giving, but also knowing when to let go.

True healing begins not when I forget the person, but when I grow beyond the shadow of the relationship. It’s a process of cultivating self-compassion and nurturing independence, not by denying the pain, but by embracing it. Through suffering, I forge new strength.

Moving forward requires a shift in perspective. Rather than seeing the end of love as failure, I now view it as a transition into self-discovery. It’s an opportunity to reevaluate my values, redefine my aspirations, and focus on the life I wish to create; one rooted in joy, purpose, and fulfillment. Growth may be uncomfortable, but it is through discomfort that I flourish.

I’ve come to understand that love does not abandon; it transforms. It invites me to love myself more fully, to seek happiness from within, and to anchor my well-being in my own spirit. Closure isn’t a single moment; it’s a series of small releases, each loosening the grip of the past.

The first step is acceptance; acknowledging that love, like all things, changes. What once connected us now drifts apart, not out of malice, but from the natural course of life. We are beings in motion, evolving, and sometimes our paths diverge.

I’ve learned to embrace the silence that follows absence. It’s tempting to fill the void with distractions, but in solitude, I’ve found clarity. Sitting with my pain and letting it unravel at its own pace has shown me that the heart has an incredible capacity for healing when given the space to breathe. Each tear is a testament to the depth of my love, not a weakness.

Time, I’ve realized, isn’t the healer; awareness is. Time will pass regardless, but it’s the moments of self-reflection and introspection that allow me to break free from old memories. Pain is not a punishment, but a lesson, each heartbreak teaching me more about myself, my desires, and the love I want and deserve.

Moving on is, in its own way, an act of faith. It requires me to let go of the past and open my heart to the unknown, trusting that something new awaits. In the gentle release, I’ve found peace. By not clinging to what was, I’ve made space for what might be.

The greatest lesson, though, is that love doesn’t belong to anyone but myself. The love I gave and received remains within me, undiminished. Though the person I shared it with is no longer beside me, the essence of that love is a part of who I am and who I will continue to become.

This journey has taught me that getting over someone isn’t about forgetting them; it’s about remembering who I am without them. It’s about finding the strength to move forward, with grace, knowing that love will find me again, perhaps when I least expect it.

—

Healing isn’t forgetting,
It’s growing through the loss.
Love changes, not abandons,
And I rediscover myself.

In silence, clarity sprouts,
Each tear a mark of strength.
Moving on means letting go,
And making space for what’s next.

— Sincerely, Boris