If you had asked me years ago, I would have said I’ve always been a lover girl. I didn’t know what limerence was back then. I romanticized star-crossed lovers, accidentally manifesting that fate for myself.
I held on longer than I should have and called it romantic. What a trap it is to beg for comfort from the one causing your suffering. What a curse it is to crave affection so much that you’d add permanent scars to your soul in the search of it.
The “love” was ephemeral but the damage in the aftermath was here to stay.