Page 172 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

I was just searching for peace.

End of October

By the end of October, the pain no longer felt explosive.

Three months of being lost, and I finally found quiet.

Not peace. Quiet.

It became softer around the edges. Easier to carry. Like a bruise that stops looking violent but still hurt whenever something is pressed against it.

The new place helped in ways I didn’t expect.

I found a virtual assistant job online after weeks of applying.

One client. One stranger somewhere across seas who looked at my resumé and decided I was worth trusting anyway.

Honestly, I almost cried after the interview, not because it was such a dream job, but because someone finally said yes.

So I built a life there, little by little.

Morning routines.

Hot choco from the same small café near the plaza.

Late night deadlines.

Video calls with Australian coworkers who slowly became friends.

People who knew nothing about the version of me that broke apart in Southside.

And for the first time in three months, I started laughing again without forcing it.

I gained some weight back. Slept better. Started replying to messages again.

Even Andi eventually managed to get through to me.

At first, it was just simple check ins. Then longer conversations about what happened—not all, but glimpses of the things I could talk about without spiraling again. Then calls. And eventually, laughter with my best friend again. Not because everything had been fixed, but because love—real love, the kind friendships gave—waited for you even after the long silence.

Still, despite all of it, there was one thing I couldn’t understand.

Why couldn’t I let Victor go?

Months had already passed. I had distance. Perspective. New routines. A different city.

So why did part of me still feel tethered to him?

And slowly, painfully, I realized the answer.

Because somewhere along the way, I decided he was the one.

Not just someone I loved. Not just someone I wanted. But the person. The future. The home.

Because once you build an entire future around someone in your head, losing them doesn’t feel like heartbreak. It feels like your whole life collapsing before it even had the chance to happen.

That was the cruel thing about loving someone.

You don’t just mourn the person. You mourn the version of yourself you thought you were going to become with them.