Have You Ever

  Abby and I were caught in the uncertain space between breaking up and holding on—neither fully apart nor truly together. The reconciliation was provisional, tentative, a fragile attempt to salvage something that had already begun to fray. In those weeks apart, I met someone new. Someone who looked at me like I was desirable, wanted, needed. And in my loneliness, that feeling was intoxicating. I wasn’t used to that kind of attention, the kind that fills an emptiness when heartbreak carves you hollow. So I leaned into it. I let myself be wanted, let the comfort of fleeting intimacy dull the ache. We spent the night together, then the morning, each moment carrying an unspoken understanding—that this wasn’t meant to last. By the time afternoon came, reality was setting in. I knew I had to step away, to end it before it became something more tangled. I was preparing to tell her it couldn’t happen again when Abby’s message arrived—breaking things off for good. Relief should have co...

  Last summer, I found myself wrapped up in something that felt exciting—something that felt right. I had been crushing on him for a while, and when we finally started seeing each other, it was like stepping into a daydream. There was a little voice in the back of my mind, though—nagging, questioning. I knew he had been with someone else before me, and even though he reassured me that they had ended things, something inside me hesitated. Still, I silenced that doubt. I wanted to believe him. Summer passed in a blur of moments with him, fleeting but full of energy. Then he moved to Johannesburg for work. We hadn’t put a label on anything, but I thought we still had something—something unspoken but understood. I believed that whatever we had wasn’t completely over. Until one day, at work, I casually opened Instagram—and there it was. A picture of him and her. Not just together but  living together . In Sandton. In an instant, everything unraveled. The doubt I had pushed aside...