At My Worst

A vow to love someone for the rest of your life should be a dream come true, right?

I wish I could say that was true for me, but it is as far from the truth as you can get.

I spent ten years of my life with a man that I thought loved me.

I had to leave. I had no choice.

It was either stay and continue to hear the words that were breaking me, or leave and start over and try to pick up the shattered pieces that were once me.

So I packed up what would fit inside my car and left in the middle of the night.

I thought I could start over and leave my past behind me, but now I know that is not how this works.

Alexander Ortiz has crashed into my life, drawing me in like a bee to honey.

I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t even be thinking about what his kiss would taste like.

What it would feel like to be touched by his hands. What it would sound like to hear him whisper into my ear.

He has completely consumed me.

It was only supposed to be a physical thing; that is all I said I wanted from him—because words are just that: words.

But he has somehow entered my heart and intertwined with my soul in a way I can’t shake.

The way he looks at me, the words he says, the gentle touch of his skin against mine.

He is showing me with his actions, not just telling me with his words.

He is trying to love me at my worst, and I am afraid this will be the end for both of us.

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Rafbók: 21 september 2025