r/sadstories

I have so many people in my life right now all steering me in a different direction but not one of them have asked what I want or need they say u could do this or that go here go there always dumping me off on the next person who trys but cant and never will understand me im different and thats okay its what makes me beautiful and unique but im drowning everyday that goes by gets harder and harder im at a point now where its sink or swim and the tide keeps pulling me under I come up for air just to get swept down again I cant breath i look in the mirror and im holding my breath but im almost out of air the currents to strong I need something to lean on they call it a higher power I call it confusing and scary now the currents have swept me completely out into the midst of nowhere I can breath now but I cant swim to shore in time im not gonna make it this isint how i thought it would be not me not my family but it is me it is my family but now my arms are getting tired but my feet are still kicking I look up into the sky and see the reflection of the water there that is my salvation my safe space this world truly was not made for peolle like me there is to much evil and ego now my legs are starting to cramp I cant keep swimming I turn onto my back as I watch the world pass me by in slow motion everyone ive ever loved everything ive ever done all comes back to me and I remember im right where im supposed to be

She was on her way out I could tell she was thinking of someone else while being with me.

There was nothing I could do she made her mind up.

I stopped being nice and rushed the process.

I made sure she despised me before she left.

A sad man indeed.

When I was 16, I had my first boyfriend. Back then, everything felt magical young, innocent, and full of hope. Until I eventually realised that he was gay, and that I had only been a way for him to prove to himself and others that he was straight.

When I found out, I was completely shaken. I wasn’t ready to accept what had happened or understand how something that felt so real to me could have meant something so different to him. I remember asking him to give me just a few days, not as his girlfriend, but simply as a friend so I could somehow process everything and survive the heartbreak.

But it was the end of school, and perhaps he didn’t care enough to stay. He moved on, while I was left trying to make sense of everything on my own.

The worst part was that whenever I tried to talk to someone, my pain became a joke. People laughed about it as if it were some funny teenage story, while for me, it was the first time my heart had truly broken.

I was only 16, and I had no idea how to carry that kind of pain.

I never thought I would be brave enough to tell this story.

Not because I’m proud of it, but because for a long time, I was ashamed of the person I had become.

There was a time when I was a dentistry student. I had dreams, I had plans, and I had a family who believed in me. I had a mother who sacrificed so much for me, a sister who loved me, and a family who wanted nothing more than to see me succeed.

And somewhere along the way, I lost myself.

It started with gambling.

At first, it was small. “One more bet.” “I’ll stop after this.” “If I win, I’ll pay everything back.” “If I win big, I’ll fix everything.”

I believed those words so much that eventually, I built my entire life around them.

When I lost, I borrowed. When I couldn’t borrow anymore, I lied.

I made up tuition fees. I made up school expenses. I created stories just so I could get money.

I convinced myself I wasn’t doing it for myself. I was going to win it back. I was going to pay my mother back. I was going to pay everyone back. I was going to fix everything.

But I didn’t.

I only made everything worse.

I became buried in debt and surrounded by lies.

And the people who suffered because of it weren’t just me.

It was my mom.
My sister.
My family.

The people who loved me before I had anything to give them.

I disappointed my mom in ways I still struggle to forgive myself for. She sacrificed for me. She believed in me. She tried to help me, even when I gave her every reason to stop.

My family could have turned their backs on me. They could have said, “You’ve done enough. Figure it out yourself.”

But they didn’t.

They still accepted me. They still wanted to help me. They still gave me a place to come back to.

And somehow, that hurt even more.

Because I knew I was hurting the people who loved me the most.

There came a point where I thought the only way I could stop hurting them was to stay away.

I thought, “Maybe I should live on my own. Maybe I should keep my distance. Maybe they’ll be better without me.”

I convinced myself I was protecting them.

But I wasn’t.

I was running away.

Because deep down, I knew I still wasn’t okay.

I knew that as long as gambling was still somewhere inside my mind, I could hurt them again.

And I did.

Then I met someone who saw me when I was already carrying so much brokenness.

My girlfriend.

She saw the lies. She saw the mistakes. She saw the person I was becoming.

We fought. I broke promises. I disappointed her. There were moments when I chose gambling over the person standing beside me.

And still…

She stayed.

She gave me chances I didn’t always deserve.

For a while, I really did change.

I worked. I paid some of my debts. And I stopped gambling for an entire year.

One whole year.

I thought I had finally escaped it. I thought I had finally won the battle.

But addiction doesn’t always leave quietly.

I got tempted again.

I started small.

And just like before, small became big.

My salary went into gambling. My incentives went into gambling. Money that was supposed to build my future became money I was desperately trying to multiply overnight.

Until eventually, I crossed a line I knew I should never have crossed.

I used money that wasn’t mine.

I used my friend’s money.

I used my girlfriend’s money.

And this time, there was no lie I could tell myself.

I knew what I was doing.

That’s when something inside me finally broke.

Not because I lost.

But because I realized how many people had been losing because of me.

My family was losing peace.
My friends were losing trust.
My girlfriend was losing faith in me.
And I was losing myself.

I finally understood something I should have understood a long time ago.

I wasn’t gambling because I wanted to become rich anymore.

I was gambling because I was trying to escape the life I had created.

Every loss made me chase another win. Every lie created another problem. Every problem became another reason to gamble.

And I kept going in circles, hoping something would save me.

But no one was coming to save me.

I had to choose to save myself.

I know this might sound like a typical story of a gambler.

Someone loses money. Someone lies. Someone gets into debt. Someone promises to stop. And then they say they’re going to change.

I’ve heard stories like that too.

But this time, something feels different inside me.

Because I didn’t just realize that I was losing money.

I realized what I was losing as a person.

I realized how much I had hurt the people around me. I realized how much my family had sacrificed for me. I realized how many chances I had been given.

And I finally realized that I can’t keep waiting for one big win to fix a life that I was the one breaking.

There is no amount of money I can win that will ever be worth losing the people I love.

I have a lot of debt.

More than I wish I had.

There are people I owe. There are people I need to make things right with.

And I’m not going to pretend fixing everything will be easy.

It won’t.

It will take time.

But I’m going to do it.

I am going to pay everything I owe.

Not through gambling.
Not through shortcuts.
Not through another lie.

Through work. Through patience. Through honesty.

I’m going to fix myself first.

Because if I don’t fix the person behind the problem, I’ll keep creating the same problems over and over again.

I know saying “I’m done gambling” doesn’t mean much anymore.

I’ve said it before.

So I’m not asking anyone to believe my words.

I’m going to let my actions prove them.

I have debts to pay. Trust to rebuild. Apologies to make. Relationships to repair. A life to rebuild from the ground up.

I know it won’t happen overnight.

And I don’t expect everyone to forgive me immediately.

Some people may never forgive me. Some people may never trust me again.

And I have to accept that.

Because I caused the damage.

But I’m still going to try.

Every single day.

I’m going to work.

I’m going to pay what I owe.

I’m going to stay away from gambling.

I’m going to stop looking for shortcuts.

I’m going to learn how to take the long way, even when it’s harder.

And most importantly, I’m going to become someone my family doesn’t have to worry about anymore.

To my mom, my sister, my family, my friends, my girlfriend, and everyone I’ve hurt:

I’m sorry.

I know those two words aren’t enough.

I know I can’t give back the time, money, trust, or peace that I took away.

But I hope that one day, when you look at me, you won’t see only the person who hurt you.

I hope you’ll see the person who finally decided to change.

And to the people who stayed when I gave you every reason to leave…

Thank you.

I may never fully understand why you still chose to love me.

But I will never take that love for granted again.

Maybe I lost years chasing shortcuts.

Maybe I lost money trying to win money.

Maybe I lost people’s trust trying to fix problems I created myself.

But I don’t want to lose the rest of my life.

I don’t want my worst decisions to become the definition of who I am.

I can’t change the past.

I can’t erase the things I’ve done.

But I can decide what I do from this moment forward.

I’m rebuilding.

Slowly.

Honestly.

One day at a time.

One debt at a time.

One apology at a time.

One good decision at a time.

Maybe this is the lowest I’ve ever been.

But maybe this is also the beginning of the life I’ve been trying to find all along.

I don’t need to win anymore.

I just need to stop losing myself.

So this time, I’m choosing me.

I’m choosing my family.

I’m choosing the people who love me.

I’m choosing a life I can finally be proud of.

And I’m choosing to face everything I’ve done instead of running from it.

This isn’t the end of my story.

This is the first chapter I’m finally writing honestly.

What’s something you had to lose before you realized how much it actually meant to you?

Goodbye!!

Dear AW

We could have been together for 7 years. I was meant to ask you the big question, kneeling down. My grandparents even offered to buy me the ring back in December, and I thanked them and asked if we could wait until March, not knowing you would have that doctor’s appointment in February and never return or speak to me ever again.

The silly thing was, I thought you had something really wrong or had got pregnant and were scared to tell me, which made me spiral even more and react in a hostile and horrible manner.

You leaving was the final drip, and my mental health collapsed, resulting in psychosis. So I raised the white flag, admitted defeat, and went to seek professional help, even as stubborn as a mule as I am.

It only took losing you, losing myself, getting into psychosis and debt. There I was, me and myself, staring in the mirror, but no one looking back.

I know you were begging me to go sooner, but I rather fed my delusions of being ''fine'' and everyone is an enemy trying to get me down.

But that man is gone, thank fuck for that no should have put up with that silly sausage.

I blocked you on everything and anyone you know, so we can't tear up wounds and hurt each other more.

Please cherish the memories we shared it wasn't always bad, we went to cat caffs, holidays and Pubs and laughed.

I have forgiven you and myself, we can't live with hate haunting our head.

As I said, you have reserved space in my heart. Hope your life is going well, got the raise and shorter train journeys. Laugh a lot and surrounded by love.

Can't believe I'm writing on Reddit I used to point the finger and laugh. To conclude my letter all I got to say is Stinky.

IK

She left my place a few days ago abruptly. For context, I’m a M(27), and shes a F(24)

Honestly best person I have met my entire life. We met in Uni and she taught me how to love and melted the rock in my heart. Was with her for 2 years of my life. Whenever she is down, I would bring her comfort whenever possible. Went to Venice and France together and paid 2k each time. I am moving on from studies to work. And she is moving to studies back again. When her phone broke I bought her a new iPhone 17 Pro Max - was worried she would be lost if the old phone powered off and she cant use maps or call anybody. Her laptop was lagging a-lot. Her studies are coming up so I quickly bought her another one. Just sent an Ipad to her house because she was asking me for it to study for her course. I knew I might have to leave the city months back if I cant find a job, so I planted the seeds early and bought those things for her so that she can push on and be successful even if Im not there anymore. I love her so much and have done so many things in secret in thee past months to make sure she succeeds if we ever were to be separated.

I love her unconditionally and realised that I should have listened to her express her feelings even though I was busy or stressed with interviews. It was the most stressful time of my life where I had nothing and I had her to support me. Now I am beginning to sort out my career and I wish I could turn back time where I had less, but I had her.

She was the best thing that has ever happened to me. She was the most beautiful, loving, kind and sweet person in my eyes. She took care of me, made food for me, cleaned the house, washed the dishes so that I can focus on my work. I love her so much and I wish she could just talk things out with me. I wish we can just talk things out openly. I will give her the world and change if she doesn’t like anything. It would mean the world to me if she appeared at my door to surprise me or called me. I feel like my heart is weak rn and beating slowly. And if I hear from her, my heart will literally explode in happiness because miracles are possible. I sincerely promise to let her have more time for her family and friends. I love her so much. And it was really committed.

I know I might not see her again, but I want her to succeed in life. She has already been through so much personal struggles and she must succeed. I don’t want her going through any pain anymore. I love her so much even if I might never see her again. I will never be able to date somebody else and have mentally convinced myself that I would rather be single for the rest of my life.

Any advice or comments? Really sad about this rn

He said to me “I hope your mom dies and no one shows up to her funeral because she was a fing nobody like you.” I love my mom more than anything in this world. It feels like my heart is gonna explode everyday because of what he said. It hurts.

I was in 8th standard, and I had crush on a girl who was a year senior to me. She was cute and beautiful also she was my first crush/ love. I had so much feelings for her. Everytime I used to look at her it was a bliss. And everytime she used to look at me it was a memory I used to cherish for many days. I only told this to my best friend, who was also my bench partner. In afternoon she used to come to my classroom just to talk with her friends and she used to look at me. Man! It was such a good feeling. Fast forward to 9th standard...I got to know that my best friend and she were in love with each other and all this when she was looking at me, it wasnt me it was my best friend 😭😭😭. And all this time he didn't tell even when I used share my feelings. It was such a bad time..i stopped talking with him and never want to see him again in my life. Though it has been a very long time, recently i completed my engineering. Lot of things were there but I just skipped it... Tell me your story

Life is sometimes truly, truly difficult—even the word "difficult" isn't enough to describe situations that are beyond words. I stop and ask myself: where is God in all this? Why does He allow such cruelty—situations that are deeply sorrowful and suffocating? Meanwhile, you see others leading quiet lives, yet they dare to use words like "cruelty" and "sadness" for things like a funeral, a bad grade, or trivial worries. What is truly awful is that they dare to judge people whose lives—as I said before—defy description; lives that are absolute disasters, total nightmares, unspeakable ordeals. They talk about sadness—"Oh, I failed my exam and had to repeat the year, but I pulled myself together, worked hard, and passed this time," or "My father died at 85—it’s been 20 years, but I still can't get over it." They end their sentences with "Yeah, life is hard," and then—while judging those who have endured the unspeakable—they add things like, "But *we* kept our cool; *we* didn't do that," or "*We* were stronger," or "*We* handled it sensibly." They think it’s the same thing. But life is incredibly cruel to some people. So please, don't add to someone's burden. If someone has made a mistake—or several—don't play the part of the righteous one or the voice of reason. If you can't understand why someone acted recklessly or did something terrible, at least remain silent; don't judge. And above all, please, do not gloat. There is so much you do not know; so many battles being fought... There are so many details, secrets, and missing pieces in the shadows; and yet, we look at the "icing on the cake," we allow ourselves to pass judgment, and—worst of all—we judge harshly.

I almost reached out to you a few minutes ago. I had the urge to go through some of our pictures again. I saw our videos laughing. I saw the last trip we took, me standing there with flowers fully unaware of the bomb that was about to explode. At the airport; where the security guard wanted to check your phone and standing behind you I saw evidence of something I had burried but felt deep in my subconscious. I knew it was too good to be true. In some ways. I definitely neglected a lot of things that were obviously not right, but would have never expected to find betrayal behind everything else.
I still can’t understand it. I never will. There is no world where I can understand how anyone can do something like this to another person. That they claim to love. And wanting to marry. Asking my parents for my hand. I just can’t understand nor will I ever. And maybe that’s a good thing.
Deep in my soul there is a crack from this day on and there is never going to be my old self again. She died right there. And I am yet to find out what the new version of me will bring. And despite everything, there is hope. I don’t know where this is coming from, but all I know is that beneath everything that may happen to me in this world, I hope nothing will ever take away my optimistic and deeply spiritual outlook on life. Everything happens for a reason. Even this. Even when I can’t believe it at all.
I will never understand the why, I will never be able to „close“ that fully unless I decide to. And I know there is no other option than that. In weak moments I think of reaching out and asking for a „how“ and a „why“. But shortly after I realize, the person on the photos, videos and in my memory never existed to begin with. It was the 70% version. When I really deserved to know the 100% version of you.

When you raised your kids alone all thier life and you are low income

When one turn 30 do you still support with everything. ?

What if. She have full time job. And you old now low income get used to be greedy

No matter how many times you talk ask for little help with rent , stuff ,

I don't have enough money left for me

I am not cold heart to kick her out I don't fight I just feeling so sad. Used. Treated bad

I am the one who clean and do everything but I say it is OK.

I don't have money as all my life paying everything alone

Disgusting father never paid a dollar

Even though he rich

She is turning to be exactly like him

She doesn't like me much

I don't know what to do

My grandmother left me a voicemail three days before she passed. I was at work when she called, and I remember seeing her name pop up and thinking, "I'll call her back after my shift." I always thought I'd call her back.

I never got the chance. She passed suddenly that night — a stroke, the doctors said, quick and without much warning. By the time I understood what had happened, all I had left of that day was a ten-second voicemail I hadn't even listened to yet.

I remember sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot, finally pressing play. Her voice was steady, a little rushed, like she had somewhere to be. She just wanted to remind me to bring a jacket to dinner on Sunday because the forecast said it might get cold. That was it. That was the whole message. Something so small, so completely unremarkable, and it became the last thing I had of her voice.

It's been four years now. My phone has been replaced twice. I've backed up that voicemail to three different cloud drives, emailed it to myself, even recorded it playing on a separate device just in case one format fails. I don't listen to it often — maybe once or twice a year, usually around her birthday. But I don't think I could ever delete it.

Sometimes I think about how much of a person can live in ten seconds. Not the big things she said over the years, not the advice or the arguments or the years of Sunday dinners. Just a woman worried I'd be cold, reminding me to grab a jacket. I'd give almost anything for one more voicemail like that.

Make sure that you don't cry at my part

I’m writing this anonymously because I don’t think I could ever tell this story under my real name.
Please read this without sugarcoating anything. I genuinely want honest opinions, even if they’re difficult to hear.
Before I met this girl in college, I was a playboy. Then I fell in love with her. I pursued her, convinced her I was serious, and repeatedly promised I would marry her.
Later, reality hit. My family is wealthy, we belonged to different castes, and I knew they would most likely never accept the relationship. I was terrified of losing my inheritance and my family’s support, so instead of standing by everything I’d promised, I broke up with her.
A while later my mother died after being ill, and I completely fell apart.
I went back to my ex. I cried, apologized, begged her to forgive me, and once again promised that I would marry her. I even personally assured her mother that I would marry her daughter. Every time my ex asked me to tell my own family, I postponed it while continuing to reassure both of them.
Because of those repeated promises, she trusted me completely.
We became physically intimate because I convinced her we were going to get married. For her, that wasn’t casual. It made her even more emotionally invested because she genuinely believed we were going to spend our lives together.
After my mother’s death, she became my entire support system.
She had PCOD, worked full-time, needed proper sleep because of her health, yet she stayed awake almost every night talking to me because I couldn’t cope with my grief. She supported me through panic attacks, emotional breakdowns, and some of the darkest months of my life.
She repeatedly told me to reconnect with my family and friends because she could see I was becoming emotionally dependent on her.
Instead, I pushed everyone else away.
She became my whole world.
The more she gave, the more I expected.
I became possessive.
I became controlling.
I wanted her attention constantly.
Small arguments turned into threats of breaking up.
Looking back, I think I expected her to replace the emotional role my mother had in my life. That wasn’t fair to her.
There are things I’m deeply ashamed of.
Sometimes we drank together. There were occasions where she later told me she wasn’t fully conscious and that I forced myself on her anyway. At the time I didn’t fully confront what I’d done. Later she told me those incidents stayed with her as trauma.
There was another incident where I became physically violent. During an argument I tried to hit her and I choked her. When she tried to leave, I begged her not to, saying I had no one after my mother’s death.
Despite everything, she stayed.
Eventually, after carrying all that pain for a long time, she exploded during an argument and said something horrible about my mother. Hearing it shattered me.
She apologized afterwards.
We stayed together for another six months and continued the relationship physically.
But the truth is I used that statement as my excuse to finally leave, even though part of me already wanted out.
For the next two years she begged me to come back.
She called, texted, pleaded, and her mother repeatedly asked me why I had broken every promise I’d made.
I’m from India, and I think the cultural context matters.
We belonged to different castes, and family approval still plays a huge role in many marriages here.
Premarital sex also carries a very different social meaning for many women and families than it does in some other countries. I knew exactly what those promises meant to her, and I still continued making them despite not being willing to stand up to my family.
She became severely depressed after the breakup and even attempted suicide.
Even then, my first thought wasn’t concern for her. My biggest fear was that if she died, the blame would come onto me and my family.
On her birthday I apologized.
She asked me one question I’ll never forget:
“Even if you apologize, can you give me back the person I used to be?”
I couldn’t answer.
Even after apologizing, I never intended to get back together with her.
Whenever we fought during the relationship, I involved her friends and complained about her even though she repeatedly asked me to keep our problems private.
When she found out I was going to marry someone else, she filed a police complaint because she believed I had gained her trust and consent through repeated promises of marriage that I never fulfilled. For her the physical relationship meant more as I’m the only guy she’s been with .
My family and I went to her house pretending we were willing to proceed with the marriage. We brought lawyers while introducing them as relatives, secretly recorded the conversations, and later used those recordings to pressure her not to continue with the complaint. I bribed the cops and also used my family’s money and influence to avoid legal consequences.

Eventually I married someone else.
Today my wife is pregnant, and I’m about to become a father.
Recently Facebook suggested my ex’s profile.
Eventually I married someone else.
After I got married, she never contacted me again. She never called, messaged, emailed, or tried to reach me in any way. As far as I know, she completely stayed out of my life.
Today my wife is pregnant, and I’m about to become a father.
Recently Facebook suggested my ex’s profile. Without thinking, I immediately blocked her.
What surprised me is that she hadn’t tried to contact me at all after my marriage. She wasn’t bothering me, chasing me, or trying to interfere with my life. Yet my first instinct was still to block her.
If I’ve really moved** **on, why did I instinctively block her?

Without thinking, I immediately blocked her.
That reaction surprised me.
If I’ve really moved on, why did I instinctively block her?
Was it guilt?
Was it shame?
Was it fear she’d contact me?
Was it fear my past could affect my present?
Or was seeing her simply a reminder of the worst things I’ve ever done?
One memory still haunts me.
Toward the end, my family tried to paint her as someone with loose morals and someone who only wanted our money.
Instead of defending her, I stayed silent because it benefited me.
I still remember my father telling her,
“I’ll send him away without a single penny.”
Without hesitation she replied,
“Even if you send him with nothing, I’ll take care of him.”
That moment proved she never loved me for my money.
I still allowed people to portray her that way.
When I first met her, I genuinely felt she was out of my league. She was kind, emotionally mature, and made me feel loved in a way I hadn’t experienced before.
Looking back, I honestly don’t know whether I truly loved her, or whether I loved what she did for me after my mother died.
When I look at my actions—breaking promises, becoming emotionally dependent, manipulating her into believing we’d marry, controlling her, assaulting her, choking her, abandoning her, allowing my family to destroy her reputation, and using money and influence to escape consequences—I struggle to call what I felt “love.”
Was it love?
Was it grief?
Was it attachment?
Was it dependency?
Or was it selfishness disguised as love?
I’m genuinely asking because I still don’t know the answer.
Please be brutally honest. I especially want to hear from both Indians and people from other countries. Does the cultural context change your opinion at all, or are my actions simply indefensible?

I’ve never told this story in one place before.
I’m married now. My wife is pregnant, and I’m about to become a father. Instead of feeling only happiness, I keep thinking about the worst version of myself.
Years ago, I met a girl in college who loved me more than anyone ever has.
I promised her marriage more than once. The first time I left because I was afraid my wealthy family wouldn’t accept someone from a different caste. After my mother died, I went back to her, cried, apologized, begged for another chance, and made the same promises again. I even assured her mother that I would marry her daughter.
She believed me.
She became my entire support system after my mother’s death. She had her own health issues, worked full-time, and still stayed awake through my panic attacks and grief because she didn’t want me to feel alone.
Instead of appreciating her, I became emotionally dependent on her.
I became possessive, controlling, and expected her to carry the weight of my emotions. I threatened to leave during arguments, and there were times when I crossed boundaries and behaved in ways she later told me deeply traumatized her. There was also an argument where I became physically violent.
She even suggested we go to couples therapy because she believed our relationship had become unhealthy. I refused because I didn’t believe in therapy.
She stayed because she loved me.
Eventually I wanted out of the relationship, but instead of admitting that honestly, I used one argument as my reason to leave.
For the next two years she begged me to come back. Her mother repeatedly asked me why I had broken every promise I had made. I still never intended to go back.
When she found out I was going to marry someone else, everything escalated. Instead of taking responsibility, I let my family portray her as someone who only wanted me for money.
One moment still stays with me.
My father told her, “I’ll send him away without a single penny.”
She replied, “Even if you send him with nothing, I’ll take care of him.”
Looking back, I don’t think she ever loved me for money. I think she genuinely loved me, and I still allowed people to question her character because it protected me.
I also remember telling her to “go find someone better than me.” I even challenged her by saying, “Let’s see after 20 years who’s doing better.”
Years passed.
I got married.
She never contacted me again. She never tried to interfere with my marriage or reach out to me in any way.
Recently Facebook suggested her profile. I saw she had moved abroad and seemed to have built a new life.
My immediate reaction was to block her.
She wasn’t bothering me.
She wasn’t trying to come back.
She wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
Yet I blocked her anyway.
I still don’t understand why.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe it was shame.
Maybe seeing her reminded me of the person I used to be.
The older I get, the more I question whether I ever truly loved her or whether I simply loved what she did for me after my mother died.
I’m not writing this because I want strangers to tell me I’m not a bad person.
I’m writing it because I don’t think I’ve ever fully admitted to myself how badly I failed someone who genuinely loved me.
I don’t expect forgiveness. I just needed to finally say it out loud.

Physically not mentally.

At work doing the job I've done for more than 30 years.

I knew it was going to be bad as I first started to fall,

I remember thinking how itd affect family members and how they'll hear about it,

And I thought about you, what you would feel about it and how there won't be a happy ending after all.

Luckily for me, The Lord had other plans for me and let me come away with broken ribs.

A Happy Ending is still \_A\_ possibility.....

My world changed when I was four years old. My mother cheated on my father and had a child with another man. My parents divorced, and my mother gave up all rights to me for her affair baby. Over the years, I had nothing but resentment for my mother and my half-sister just for existing. My mother sent birthday cards and tried to reach out now and then.

Fast forward 4 years ago when my boyfriend was making college plans. He wanted a long-distance relationship. I instead wanted to take a break until after college. He eventually agreed that would be better so we could focus on our studies. I ended up getting my nursing degree finishing much earlier than he did, so I told him that our break was still ongoing and planned to do 2 years in the Peace corp, which was a great experience. Had no contact with him whatsoever during my 2 years away. I came back last week, and my whole world has collapsed. My boyfriend met some girl in college and got her pregnant and married her while I was gone. Just found out last night that this girl is my half-sister who destroyed now my life twice.