A Heartbreak Odessy

Echoes of Solitude"

Dear Diary,

Day 2 of NO CONTACT.

Today, something shifted. The pain is still there, lingering in the background like a dull ache, but it didn’t overwhelm me. I still miss him, that much is true, but I noticed something different—I wasn’t thinking about him as often, and, to my surprise, I didn’t mind that we weren’t talking much. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I felt a glimpse of who I used to be.

I found myself talking to other men today, freely, without the constant worry of betraying him. It felt strange at first, like I was doing something wrong, but then I realized there was no reason to hold back anymore. So, I flirted. I laughed. I allowed myself to enjoy the conversations without guilt. It felt liberating, like I was slowly reclaiming pieces of myself that had been lost in the chaos of loving him.

As the day went on, I started to remember how much I once loved my own company. I used to cherish the quiet moments alone, where I could just be, without anyone’s expectations or needs pressing down on me. Today, for the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of that peace again. And it surprised me—how quickly I seem to be falling out of love. Faster than I ever imagined possible.

Vessel’s voice was my constant companion today. I played the TMBTE album on repeat, letting the music fill the spaces where loneliness used to creep in. There’s something about those songs that makes me feel less alone, like they understand the exact shade of heartache I’m going through. I clung to that comfort, wrapping it around myself like a warm blanket.

But then I made the mistake of going through our old messages. I don’t know why I did it—maybe I was looking for something, some kind of closure or a reminder of what we had. But it was too painful. I couldn’t scroll far before the memories started to hurt too much.

He didn’t call tonight. A part of me hoped he would. I watched my phone, waiting for that familiar ring, that tiny connection to him that I’m still craving. But there was nothing. Just silence. So, I turned back to Vessel, playing "The Apparition" by Sleep Token on repeat until the sadness dulled, and his voice lulled me to sleep.

I miss him. I still want him. I still love him. But today, for the first time, I’m starting to believe that maybe I can survive this. Maybe I can find my way back to myself, even without him. And that thought, while still fragile, gives me a small glimmer of hope.