There are probably a million ways to get over heartbreak. Yet somehow, we always postpone doing the one thing that actually works.

Maybe you buy plants (dozens of them) and water them like your love life depends on it. Maybe you get a dog, one who never leaves you on read.
Maybe you overschedule yourself so hard that burnout becomes your new personality trait.
You wake up, work out, meditate, start a new language, pick up new hobbies, hike mountains, dance barefoot in your apartment with ambient lighting, climb trees, go dancing, socialize, and tell your mom “I’m doing great.”

There are a million ways to run.
Oh, I should know. I happen to be an expert in distraction; with just enough self-awareness not to do anything I’d regret later.

But then life throws something inconvenient at you.
Like an injury.
Suddenly, you can’t go for your head-clearing walks, or heal your heart on a mountain trail, or skate through the pain like a sexy little blur of denial. You can’t run, can’t escape, can’t avoid.

You’re forced to sit still.
And it doesn’t even hit then.

It still hits way later.
Like a shadow in the dark.
The grief you thought you’d outpaced six months ago comes. With a projector.
And suddenly, you’re watching the memories you had been suppressing like a film reel on a random Friday night, in the city you love the most; mascara smudged, heart open, ego crumbling.

What was I afraid of all this time?
Crying on a bench sometime after 4AM like some tragic French film with birds chirping in the background?
Or was I afraid that crying meant it mattered?
That he mattered.
That I wasn’t as detached and cool and over it as I wanted to believe?

The emotional release I feared the most… didn’t break me.
It set me free.

Because maybe healing doesn’t always look like vision boards, new hobbies, and creative side-projects .
Maybe sometimes, it’s letting your inner child sob in your arms over someone who didn’t choose you.
Someone who probably would never.
Someone you still wanted anyway.

Maybe the real heartbreak isn’t being left,
It’s realizing how hard you’ve hurt yourself just to keep someone else around.

So yes, there are a million ways to get over heartbreak.
You can shop, sweat, scroll, flirt, run, cry, reinvent yourself six times and still feel the ghost of them in your dreams.
But one way (maybe the only real way) is this:

You sit with it.
You stop running.
You grieve.
You stop pretending it didn’t matter.
You admit that you cared.
You loved deeply.
And you stayed longer than you should’ve.

And then…
You hold yourself.
You wipe your tears.
You look around at the friends who still show up, the family who still calls, the version of you who didn’t die from heartbreak; she evolved.
She rose.

And eventually, you shine again.

Because you are the sunshine.
And the moonlight. The stars.
And yeah, sometimes, the clouds,the clouds, the rain, the thunder… even the lightning that scorches everything in its path.

But you’re still the whole damn sky.