It’s funny how comfortable people get judging a situation they know nothing about. You only heard my ex’s side, so of course your opinion is based on a half-told story.
If seeing me happy bothers you while you and he are still stuck in bitterness, that’s not my burden to carry.
Therapy comes in different forms…
mine just happens to involve a paddle, missed shots, loud laughs, and saying “one last game” for the fifth time. 🏓✨
Pickleball became my stress reliever, my escape, and somehow the only therapy that makes me sweat and heal now.
No matter how hard I try to pull away, my heart still runs back to him.
I’ve never been like this before—loving someone so deeply it hurts, yet still choosing them.
Maybe it’s crazy, maybe it’s real… all I know is this kind of love is my first.