No one really talks about the grief of same-gender love.
How heavy it is to lose someone you can’t even tell your parents about.
A heartbreak you have to mourn in silence,
because the love itself was something you had to hide.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of people who find “their person” early on. I love being single and focusing on myself, but I’m a hopeless romantic. It’d be nice to go on cute dates, travel, cuddle, spend the holidays together, and grow old with someone.
You don’t get over them. You sit with it, you feel every heartbreak, every disappointment, every sting of missing them, every wave of ‘what if.’ You cry, you overthink, you rage, you laugh at yourself… and slowly, the memories become gentle echoes instead of sharp pains.