Wounded Love

He surprised me with pie in bed that night. It tasted better than it looks.

Author's Note:

This reflection marks a moment in time. It is a reminder that grief, healing, and integration are not linear.

Wounded Love

We are coming close to the one-year mark since the last time he and I were together intimately.

Since we talked about our day.

Plans for the week.

My upcoming trip to Juneau to advocate for increased education funding and our disappointment that I would miss the Superbowl.

His sister's upcoming visit to Ketchikan.

Words of love were exchanged.

I knew things were not right.

He didn’t smell like himself.

I was 99.9% certain he was engaging with someone else, but I didn’t have proof—and honestly, it was easier to look the other way and hope things would get better.

Because I loved him. Deeply.

And I hoped we could return to the way things were.

I desperately wanted to believe in the version of him who courted me.

The one who worked hard for my trust.

The one who spoke of consistency and caretaking.

The one who asked if I felt safe, warm, and loved for a year.

The one I spent so much time with.

The one I truly believed was my friend.

The next morning was especially strange.

I have thoughts about why, but I won’t go into them here.

What I do remember is leaving his house, saying goodbye to Nate, Maggie, and Audrey, and feeling my intuition whisper that it would be my final goodbye.

Logic and intuition don’t always agree,

so I swiped it away and hoped for next time.

Never in a million years did I think things would unfold the way they did.

The fracture.

The separation.

The strange limbo in between.

The explosion.

The silence.

And everything that has happened since.

Dang.

I have bled so many emotions.

All of them rooted in wounded love.

And after everything,

there is no hate in my heart.

Still—wounded love.

A love so wounded I can’t look him in the eye and pretend none of it happened.

Because it was all real to me.

And I know it was real to him too—

even if he acts like it was nothing.

Says hi in the hallway,

And then mumbles and walks away.