By Sarah Miller
April 28, 2025

I never thought I’d feel this lost again. A year and a half ago, I was in a relationship that I thought would be my saving grace. Before I met her, I was at one of my lowest points. I felt like I had no reason to keep going. The world felt empty, and I was constantly battling thoughts I didn’t know how to silence. She came into my life at just the right time. Her presence, her words, her laughter—all of it gave me something to hold onto. She helped me push through the darkness, helped me see the good again, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a reason to keep fighting.

But then, everything changed. We had an argument, one of those huge blowouts that just spirals. It wasn’t even just about the argument itself; it was everything that had built up under the surface. My family, who had always been supportive of me, started telling me that she was toxic. They saw things that I couldn’t or didn’t want to see. They told me that she was pulling me down, that I deserved better, and that it was time to walk away. I didn’t want to believe them. I wanted to believe that what we had was real, that it could work, that it was worth fighting for. But I was scared. I felt torn between her and my family, who only wanted the best for me. In the end, I agreed with them and ended it.

The first few weeks were incredibly hard. I thought I was doing the right thing, but deep down, it felt like a huge part of me was missing. I missed her in a way I didn’t know how to explain. I tried to move on, tried to keep my head up, but the emptiness crept in again. Slowly, the suicidal thoughts that I had managed to push away for so long came creeping back into my mind. It’s like that part of me that she helped heal was unraveling again, and I had no idea how to stop it.

Now, months later, I still think about her. I miss the sound of her voice, the way she made me laugh when I didn’t feel like smiling. I miss the warmth of her presence, the feeling of being seen and understood by someone who truly cared. It’s been over half a year, and it feels like I’m still stuck in the same place, like I never really left that darkness behind. Every time I think about her, I feel guilty. Did I make the right decision? Was I too quick to listen to others? And then, the guilt turns into frustration, because I still feel lost, like I haven’t moved forward at all.

I wish I could have both—her and the peace my family thought I needed. But instead, I’m left here, feeling more torn than ever. I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to reach out, wants to fix things, but I don’t know if that’s what I really need. I’m scared of falling back into that place where I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was losing myself. I just don’t know how to move forward when I feel like I’m being pulled in so many different directions.

Right now, I just feel really lost. The suicidal thoughts still pop up every now and then, and I hate that they’re back. It’s a constant battle between wanting to heal, wanting to find peace, and missing something I thought I had to let go of. I don’t know what the right answer is, or if there even is one, but all I know is that I’m still struggling to find my way.