I didn’t plan to fall in love this summer.
And I definitely didn’t plan to fall apart.
But here I am — sitting in the ruins of a love story that looked like fireworks, only to discover it was actually a slow-burning fire hazard I kept running back into.
This isn’t the kind of story you wrap in a bow.
This is the messy middle.
The confession.
The wake-up call.
The mirror.
💌 The Testimony
I am exhausted but proud, finishing my summer work in elderly care.
I haven’t painted, written, or danced in my kitchen in months.
I’ve just been surviving — resting, sleeping, hoping my creativity will return when it’s ready.
But before this drained feeling… before the weight of long shifts and empty energy —
he came back.
For Midsummer.
As if the season itself cracked me wide open.
The Egyptian guy.
The unfinished ending.
The wife. The child.
The thousand red flags I kept trying to bleach into white picket fences.
It was chaos. Chemistry. History.
“I love you,” he said.
“Let’s build a future,” he promised.
We made fires. We swam in the ocean. We picnicked on the rocks.
I told him “I love you.”
I told him I wanted to try again.
And in that moment, it felt real. It felt safe.
But then came the nightmares.
The jealousy.
The way he grabbed my phone to check my messages.
The questions about men from my past.
The paranoia.
And eventually, the betrayal I couldn’t ignore:
The Facebook photo.
The girl from the hiking group.
The kiss he gave her the same day he kissed me.
My whole body went cold.
I cried at work.
I shook.
I thought I would throw up.
And yet — when he showed up later on his bike, smiling, unpacking my groceries, touching me like nothing had happened… I melted. Again.
Because sometimes the craving for closeness outweighs the knowledge that it’s not safe.
🚩 The Ick Breakdown
The Ick isn’t just TikTok-level disgust about bad jeans or chewing too loud.
It’s the stomach-dropping moment when the person you love suddenly feels like a stranger.
When the kiss tastes like betrayal.
When the touch makes your skin crawl.
When your body says:
“We are not safe.”
And yes, I had the superficial icks, too:
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The way he cut me off mid-sentence.
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The way he dismissed my texts with “I won’t read that.”
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The chaos he left in my house — barbecue tools, dirty dishes, empty ice cream boxes.
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Eating like there was a famine.
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Demanding breakfast and clean towels like I was his maid.
Some of it was annoying.
Some of it was almost adorable.
Some of it was intoxicating — our dark humor, our banter, our fire.
But then the switch flipped.
From laughter to arguments.
From roasting each other playfully to me blocking him more times than I thought I could block a man.
That’s The Ick.
Not just disgust.
Disillusionment.
The spell breaking.
🧠 Mirror Work Moment
So I stood in the mirror and asked myself:
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Have I crossed my own boundaries just to feel chosen?
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Have I called control “protection”?
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Have I mistaken chaos for chemistry?
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What would the highest version of me never tolerate again?
The truth? Yes.
I crossed my own lines.
I justified what I knew was wrong.
I stayed when I should’ve left.
But I’m not ashamed anymore.
That version of me was hopeful.
She just wanted love so badly, she tried to build it out of scraps.
Now that I know better, I get to do better.
✨ The Exit Plan (Even If You’re Not Ready Yet)
Leaving doesn’t always look glamorous.
Sometimes it looks like blocking, unblocking, and blocking again.
Sometimes it looks like crying in the car with groceries in the backseat.
Sometimes it looks like whispering “never again” and then letting him back in anyway.
But the exit plan isn’t about perfection.
It starts the moment you stop calling chaos “chemistry.”
It starts when you name what’s breaking you.
It starts when you admit:
“This isn’t love. This is emotional damage with good branding.”
You don’t have to leave today.
You don’t have to have a polished comeback story.
You just have to stop pretending you don’t see it.
Because clarity always comes before courage.
And once you see, you can’t unsee.
He wasn’t the one.
He was the lesson.
The wreckage I mistook for home.
And if you’re still in it?
Still answering his calls?
Still checking his WhatsApp last seen?
I see you.
I am you.
I’m still finding my own map.
But every day, the rose-colored glasses crack a little more.
And that’s where it starts.
🔮 Affirmations
Say these out loud — or whisper them through tears:
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“I trust my gut, even when it breaks my heart.”
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“I will not shrink to be loved.”
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“What I feel is valid, even if it’s messy.”
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“Love should not require me to abandon myself.”
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“The version of me who chose him didn’t know what I know now. And that’s okay.”
🔚 The Outro
The Ick isn’t weakness.
It’s your wake-up call.
It’s your soul whispering:
“You don’t belong here anymore.”
Not because you’re broken.
Not because you’re unlovable.
But because you were never meant to shrink yourself to be chosen.
If you’re still in the storm, I’m with you.
I’m not perfect either.
I slip. I circle back. I stumble.
But one choice at a time, I’m rising.
And so are you.
💌 If this cracked something open in you, share it with someone who needs to hear it.
🎧 Listen to the full episode: THE ICK – Romantic Homicide (But I Kissed Him Anyway)
📲 Join me on Instagram: @angelina.milajki
✨🦄💦🌈 As Always — Extra RainbOH!w Sparkles & Good Vibes OH!nly ✨🦄💦🌈
/ Angelina Mi Lajki
