After that first relationship, I began to discover more about myself. I started accepting things I once feared. I began to see my feelings - the way I loved - as something normal. Or at least, I tried to. A part of me still clung to denial, to the idea that normal meant being with a man, being accepted, being safe. But even with that lingering voice in my head, I chose to love again.
This time, I entered a new relationship - with another woman. I felt a little more prepared, a little wiser. I had learned how to adjust, how to care more deeply, how to express love without hesitation. In the beginning, it was everything I had hoped for. We shared dreams, made plans for the future, laughed at the little things. She felt like home. I gave her all the love I had - more than I thought I was capable of giving.
But still, I kept her hidden.
We both did.
We loved in silence, in secrecy, behind closed doors and cryptic captions. We never said we were in love out loud - not to the world. Not even to the people who mattered. I told myself it was okay. That what we had was real, even if no one else could see it. That hiding it didn't make it any less true.
But then, everything changed.
Our relationship started to fall apart. She became distant, colder. And one day, she posted someone else - a girl. Openly. Proudly. She never posted me, but she posted her. And in that moment, something inside me broke.
I asked myself over and over: Why not me? Was I not enough? Did I deserve to be hidden?
She never gave me answers. She left without an explanation, without closure. Just silence. And that silence screamed louder than any goodbye ever could. I was left alone with the pain, and it consumed me.
I remember crying while walking down the street, unable to hold it in. I remember breaking down in front of my mother, sobbing like a child who just lost her whole world. That's when I knew - I didn't just like her. I loved her. Maybe more than I loved myself.
Her betrayal left a wound I didn't know how to heal. She shattered me in ways I couldn't explain. My heart turned cold, like an iceberg drifting farther from anything warm. I began to hate love. I resented it. I didn't want it anymore.
She left an imprint on my soul - not just for being my second love, but for being the one who made me question everything I had built within myself. And in the ruins of that love, I stopped believing I could ever commit again.