Hi everyone,
I’m new to this. Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m starting a blog. I just felt like I needed to throw myself into something before I drove myself completely insane.
I’m 28 years old. A year ago, I got into my first relationship. Then I got my first heartbreak.
The guy has moved on. He’s dating. He’s living his life. And here I am, sitting by my window after the rain, watching water slide down the glass while Georgia Rule plays in the background because apparently silence is not an option these days.
I always thought breakups would be easier than this.
Not easy, exactly. Just… manageable.
You know how everyone has advice when you’re going through a breakup? Suddenly everyone becomes a relationship expert. You get the Instagram quotes, the podcasts, the YouTube videos, the “everything happens for a reason” speeches.
“It gets better.”
“Give it time.”
“Focus on yourself.”
And maybe they’re right.
But what nobody tells you is that sometimes you can know all the right answers and still miss someone anyway.
Sometimes you can understand why a relationship ended and still wish it hadn’t.
Sometimes you can know you deserved better and still wonder why you weren’t enough.
That’s the part I wasn’t prepared for.
I wasn’t prepared for the jealousy either.
We’re supposed to act like we’re above it. Like we’re evolved and emotionally mature and completely unbothered.
Meanwhile, I’m over here discovering terms like breadcrumbing, orbiting, situationships, and whatever new dating vocabulary people invent every week. Honestly, I feel like Carrie Bradshaw accidentally wandered into 2026.
And before anyone judges me, yes, I’m aware that half my problems would probably disappear if I stopped checking what he’s doing.
I haven’t mastered that skill yet.
One of many things we’ll be discussing here.
Also, fun fact: I’m a doctor.
Which, as it turns out, offers absolutely no protection against heartbreak.
No degree exists that teaches you how to stop missing someone.
No exam prepares you for watching somebody move on while you’re still trying to understand what happened.
And maybe that’s why I’m writing this.
Not because I have answers.
I really don’t.
I’m writing because I spent months feeling embarrassed by emotions that are probably far more universal than I realized. The sadness. The anger. The jealousy. The bargaining. The ridiculous urge to analyze every conversation like it’s evidence in a criminal investigation.
If you’ve felt any of those things, welcome.
You’re in the right place.
This blog isn’t going to be one of those perfect healing journeys where I emerge from chapter one completely transformed and thriving by chapter ten.
This is going to be messy.
There will be stories, lessons, mistakes, late-night realizations, and probably a concerning amount of overthinking.
But mostly, this is going to be honest.
I want to get him out of my system.
And if, somewhere along the way, this helps someone else feel a little less alone in their own heartbreak, then maybe all of this will have been worth writing about.
So… here we are.
Let’s see where this goes.
Letters I'll Never Send 