How did we get here? It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

We had plans. We had dreams. We still had so much to do. I thought we had so much time.

Maybe one day we will meet again. So maybe I should be at peace with letting you go. I should just let the universe do its trick. But baby, I’m afraid we’ll get lost out there.

I want to move on. I want to let you go. But I don’t want to stop missing you. I’m afraid to no longer miss you. It hurts to miss you. I want this pain to stop. But if I let the pain stop then you will be gone.

I know once I move on, what we were no longer will have life, like an ancient stone etched in the ground, you will become history. I’m just not ready to put your memory into the ground just yet.

Baby, I’m just not ready to move on just yet.

Your memory haunts me and comforts me at the same time. I wish I would stop thinking about you all the time. I wish you would leave me alone. But I just can’t give up that...

When we search for a relationship fantasy to save us, it means there’s a relationship reality we can’t sit with and are running from or are disassociated from.

There is a part of our story we have not claimed and owned. A part of ourselves in our past we’re trying to create separation from. We have abandoned a part of who we are. We have repressed the painful parts into the deep, cellular bowels of our being.

Romantic dysfunction means one thing: DISCONNECTION FROM SELF.

When we chase fantasy, we want one thing: AVOID REALITY.

This is revealed countless times when we choose someone WHO IS NOT GOOD FOR US.

This means: WE HAVE A WAR AGAINST OUR OWN REALITY.

We can’t be with reality and would rather live in dysfunctional delusion than be presented with our very own confronting reality.

The confronting reality is coming face-to-face with our unworthiness. It’s coming face-to-face with our shame. It’s coming face-to-face with a part of ourselves we...

In December 2015 I went through a traumatic breakup experience.

It was one of those situations where I ‘lacked courage’ and failed to have the really hard conversation and speak my brutal truth.

I didn’t have the courage because I was afraid of hurting her — and the longer I went without telling her the truth the more the anxiety built and the harder it became to have that conversation — and she stayed with me, knowing she was not getting what she needed from a partner but was too afraid to address it or ask for more.

So, because neither of us could show enough courage to talk about the shit that was going on between us, the relationship basically self-imploded from the inside and it got really messy.

The aftermath of the breakup was a difficult one for myself, both emotionally and psychologically. So much so that I spent the first six months of the breakup going through intensive therapy and counselling so I could really decode the events of...

I’ll admit something...

I’m usually the last one to move on after a breakup. At least relationships where I’d actually fallen for the person. I rarely fall but when I fall, I fall fast, I fall hard, and it’s hard for me to get back up after I fall.

For this reason...

I’m usually the one still reeling after the breakup, tending to my wounds and processing the breakup while I watch my ex update her profile picture with someone new.

"I’ve been in love four times in my life. I’ve also been heartbroken four times as well. Go figure, right?"

I’m good at not giving a shit. I can not give a shit with the best of them. But every time I’ve ever given a shit in a relationship, I’ve eaten shit. Metaphorically of course.

Interestingly, there is a pattern that has presented itself.

The first girl I was in love with broke it off with me because she met a guy who made it clear to her that her and I were not the right fit together.

The...