I know it’s been a while since I last wrote—so much has been going on, and I’m just trying to keep up! I’m new to journaling, but I promise to improve. I’ve finally managed to follow a schedule—I might break it tomorrow, though. It’s late, and I’m too darn sleepy, but I had to write today. I’ve been going to bed on time, waking up early, taking walks, hitting the gym, and eating well. All in all, I’ve made some very good progress. Sometimes I wonder, how long can I keep up with it?
That’s the good part. As for smoking, I haven’t been able to quit completely, but I’m down to just one or two cigarettes a day. I’ve made it a point to only buy loose cigarettes—no ordering entire packs online. I walk to the little corner shop near my place, buy a single cigarette, and smoke. Each trip reminds me of my goal to cut down, and I even enjoy the brief walk as a way of showing some care for my body.
Today, while sitting in a cozy café with a friend, we were sharing how I’m finally starting to feel at peace and get my life back together. Then, out of the blue, my phone rang and a familiar name flashed on the screen. He contacted me again, and at the sight of his name, my composure slipped away—my heart began racing, my face grew warm, and my ears turned red. I ignored the first few calls and messages, but on the fourth ring, I answered.
He asked how I was doing, and I replied that I was fine. He apologized sincerely for past hurts and admitted that he missed me a lot. Unsure of how to respond, I told him I was busy and would call back—though, truthfully, I didn’t want to. My friend, noticing my distress, gently advised me to relax and not give in until I get what I rightfully deserve. I was astonished that he still held so much power over me—why couldn’t I just let him fade away and block his number? When he asked if I still wanted him, my heart silently confirmed that I did.
He suggested that I reclaim my power by setting a clear boundary: I would only consider welcoming him back if he agreed to make a serious commitment—marriage, in his case. I never imagined that love could turn into a game of power. Is everything in life so political? I felt conflicted—doesn’t love mean putting someone else’s happiness before your own? Yet, many say that self-love is most important. I found myself torn, overwhelmed by the uncertainty of what to do next.
In the end, I took his advice. I told him that if he truly wanted me, he should return to my homeland and commit to marriage—and that I wouldn’t be waiting around indefinitely. I’m still not entirely sure what that means or how it’s supposed to work, especially since we agreed not to speak until he was ready to meet my terms. To my surprise, he listened and promised he’d get in touch in two months. Can I trust him to follow through? I don’t know—I’ve seen him back out before.
