Zotter
Tourist
It still feels strange to admit this part of myself. After so many years of hiding it, pushing it down, pretending it didn’t matter… I’m finally letting myself feel it. And honestly, it’s emotional.
I loved my old partner. I really did. And I miss him—more than I usually let myself say out loud. There’s a kind of ache that never fully leaves, you know?
But I’m also realizing that love like that doesn’t have to stay locked in the past. I think about the future sometimes—about having a dog again one day. It’s a small hope, but a real one. Just the idea of sharing those kinds of feelings again, in a new way, feels comforting. Maybe even healing.
I think I’m ready to stop pretending this part of me doesn’t exist.
I loved my old partner. I really did. And I miss him—more than I usually let myself say out loud. There’s a kind of ache that never fully leaves, you know?
But I’m also realizing that love like that doesn’t have to stay locked in the past. I think about the future sometimes—about having a dog again one day. It’s a small hope, but a real one. Just the idea of sharing those kinds of feelings again, in a new way, feels comforting. Maybe even healing.
I think I’m ready to stop pretending this part of me doesn’t exist.
