When healing wasn’t linear… and neither were you.

Some heartbreaks come with fireworks. Explosions. Ugly crying. Slammed doors and scorched earth.
And some… just echo in silence.

I thought I was over this.
Really.
I had told myself the story so many times I could repeat it like a bedtime fable:
“It’s fine. We had a disagreement. It didn’t work out. I let it go.”

But then I see them.
And something twists in my gut.
Not rage. Not sadness.
Just… disgust.
The kind that settles deep, like spoiled milk at the bottom of your stomach.
And I smile. I nod. I’m polite.
But I can’t meet their eyes. Not because I’m afraid of them…
But because I’m afraid they might see what I’m really thinking.

And what I’m thinking is:
“You knew what you were doing.”

It wasn’t just a project. It wasn’t just a job. It was something built with heart ... something that was meant to mean more.
But somewhere along the way, they stopped treating it that way.
They started making decisions that didn’t make sense. Dismissing the care that went into it. Changing the vision. Cutting corners.
Not just practically ... but emotionally.

And when I asked questions, I already knew the answers.
They lied. Got defensive. Shifted blame.
Acted like I was the problem for noticing.

So I stepped away.
Quietly. Clearly. Without drama.
And I took back what was mine ... not just physically, but emotionally.
Because once something sacred is broken, I don’t try to glue it back together and pretend it didn’t crack.
I just leave.

They said I abandoned them.
But truthfully… they abandoned the idea long before I ever walked away.

And maybe that’s what I haven’t fully let go of.
Not the ending.
But the realization that someone I trusted never really respected what we were building.

People warned me.
And I gave the benefit of the doubt… because I didn’t want to believe people like that still existed.
Turns out, they do.
And sometimes they’re close.
Which makes the knife twist a little deeper.

There are people I’ll never speak to again.
Not out of bitterness…
But because the tear was too deep, and the silence that followed made it final.

Grieving a loss is hard.
But at least grief has rituals.
Endings you can name. Closures you can understand.

But what do you do when the person is still in your orbit…
Smiling, shaking hands…
Pretending they didn’t bulldoze something that once meant everything?

Sometimes healing doesn’t walk in a straight line.
Sometimes it circles back when you hear their name.
When your stomach clenches without permission.
When your body reminds you of the thing your brain insists you’ve already moved past.

And all you can do…
Is sit with it.
And whisper again:
“I thought I was over this.”