Dear Someone: You are not defined by your past heartbreaks, nor are you the sum of your failures in love.

A reminder that with the right person, colours seem brighter, and laughter comes easier.

Dear, Dear Someone, _

The first time I truly understood the meaning of heartbreak, I was sitting alone in my car at midnight, rain drumming against the windshield, matching the rhythm of my tears. That moment felt like the end of everything, but looking back now, it was actually the beginning. It was the first paragraph of a story I never knew I needed to live through to find real love.

Sitting there, fogged windows isolating me from the world, I tortured myself with questions that seemed to echo in the confined space: "How did I get it wrong?", "Was I not enough?", "Why didn't they choose me?", "What if I had done things differently?", "Will anyone ever truly love me?", "How long will this pain last?", "When will I stop checking my phone hoping to see their name?", "Why does everyone else seem to find love so easily?", "Will I ever trust again?", "How many more hearts do I have to give away before one stays?"

It took me months to realize that these questions weren't meant to be answered – they were meant to be released. Like the steam that eventually cleared from my car windows that night, the fog of confusion and self-doubt gradually lifted, revealing a clearer path forward. And now, as I write this letter to you from the other side of that pain, I see why I needed to experience that dark night of the soul.