Page 70 of Love Harder

Silence to the text, but he posted to his stories that good times make weak men and hard times make tough men or something like that.

The next day was my final attempt to salvage something dead and buried.

Is everything okay? Going from talking every day to not knowing if you’re going to reply or not really messes with my head. If you don’t wanna talk anymore, I respect that. Just let me know. I hope you’re okay x

And that’s where our story ends.

Brooklyn ghosted me.

He didn’t reply.

He didn’t unfriend or block me, but he hasn’t made any contact either.

I can read between the lines because sadly, this has happened before. And because of that, I began to think that perhaps it wasn’t the men I chose, but rather, perhaps the issue was me.

Those familiar feelings of not being good enough for anyone rose like wildfire, and I couldn’t breathe. There was a common denominator, and that was me.

Bossman’s words echoed loudly:You had to go and create drama because you thrive on it. You self-sabotage your happiness because nothing is ever good enough for you!

I questioned myself, just how I did when he said those words to me.

Maybe he was, god forbid, right.

But I didn’t think I did that. I wanted simple. All I wanted was to find my person. How could it be this hard?

I know anything in life that is worth doing isn’t easy, I’ve accepted that and am not afraid of hard work. But finding my person was bordering on being impossible.

What was wrong with me? Am I the problem here?

I asked my besties Mötley and Angel this very question. Regardless of my actions, my friends would always have myback. But I wanted—I needed—honesty because I just didn’t understand what I was doing “wrong.”

But what they said helped heal my soul.

We’ve read the messages, we’ve heard the voice notes and calls, so these men fooled us too. We believed, like you did, they meant everything they said to you. We’ve read your replies. You are not the problem here because if you are, then so are we.

Perhaps we’re as delirious as the other, but it made me feel better.

We’re so quick to judge others.

They’re abundant in life.

Successful. Social.

Pretty.

They must have it all.

But we don’t know anyone’s struggles. Regardless of what one might portray on the outside, every person has their own struggles and demons.

And mine threatened to choke me, and for good this time.

Writing has always been an escapism for me, and I never take it for granted. I know what an extraordinary life I live, and I have every single one of you who is reading this to thank for that.

When I write, I leave pieces of myself throughout the pages, hoping to connect with you in some way. That is the reason I wrote this book.

LOVE HARDwas an introduction, butLOVE HARDERis just that…if you’re here for the second round, then it seems I was able to connect with you in some way.

Love isn’t easy, and most times, it hurts, but we’re still here, and that counts for something, right?

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