Dear, Ex: I'm Not Your Backup and I Deserve More Than This

Some mornings are still hard.

Even after sleep. Even after progress.

Even after Elijah.

Monday felt like a storm brewing behind my ribs.

I woke up feeling restless like I forgot something important or something bad was coming, but I couldn't explain why. It wasn't a full panic. Just unease.

I tried to push through it. Made tea. Answered client emails. Pulled my hair into a neat puff and dressed in a clean, soft beige sweater and jeans. Comfort clothes. Safe clothes.

But my mind wasn't calm.

Elijah texted around 11 a.m.

Elijah:

Sketching at the park today. Want to bring your journal and join me?

I stared at the message for a full minute. It was sweet. Casual. No pressure.

He was always like that an open door, not a locked room.

Still, I hesitated.

Part of me wanted to say yes.

Another part whispered:

"You're getting too close."

"You'll scare him away if you're too much."

"You always ruin the good things."

Old voices. Not my own. But ones I still believed sometimes.

I typed a reply:

Ava:

Maybe next time. Having a low-energy day.

He replied almost instantly.

Elijah:

Totally okay. Drink water. Rest. You don't have to do anything big to be doing your best.

I smiled a little.

And also felt tears sting my eyes.

Why was it so strange to be treated gently?

I closed my phone and opened my journal.

"Today I am afraid of peace because I don't know how long it lasts."

I paused.

Then added:

"But I also know I deserve it. Even if I'm still learning how to hold it."

Around 2 p.m., I walked to the grocery store. I needed a break from my apartment, from my thoughts. From me.

I grabbed almond milk, granola, and the cheap cinnamon cookies I liked.

As I turned into the last aisle, I froze.

Jayden.

There he was.

Standing near the rice shelf, holding his phone, scrolling. Same neatly lined beard. Same confident posture. But he looked... thinner. Maybe tired. Maybe not.

I ducked quickly behind a stack of pasta boxes, heart thudding. My hand gripped the cart.

Don't panic.

He hasn't seen you.

You don't owe him anything.

But I felt my breath speed up.

The way he used to make me feel small.it hadn't left my body.

I stayed hidden until I was sure he'd moved on. When I peeked again, he was gone.

I pushed my cart to the self-checkout, hands shaking slightly as I scanned the items.

The past can show up in the quietest ways.

And it still knew how to make me feel 19 and invisible.

When I got home, I dropped my bag on the floor and stood in the hallway, frozen.

I didn't cry.

I didn't scream.

I just stood still for a long time.

Elijah called.

Not a text. A call.

I picked up on the third ring.

"Hey," I said softly.

His voice was steady. "You okay?"

I swallowed. "No. But I will be."

"Want to talk about it?"

I sat on my couch and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

"I saw Jayden."

Silence on the line. Not awkward just space.

"I didn't speak to him. He didn't see me. But my body still... reacted."

"That makes sense," Elijah said.

"It's been months. I should be over it."

"Who told you that healing has a deadline?"

I smiled weakly. "I guess... me."

"Ava," he said gently, "your fear doesn't mean you're not growing. It just means you're human."

We talked for twenty more minutes. About nothing. About everything.

When we hung up, I felt calmer.

Like the memory of Jayden had shrunk back to its corner.

I lit a candle and opened my journal again.

"I don't owe him my scars.

I don't owe him the ache in my chest when I see him at random.

He took enough already.

He doesn't get this healing too."

The next morning, I went to the park.

Elijah was sitting on the same bench, sketchbook on his lap. When he saw me, he smiled—warm, surprised, like he hadn't expected me but was glad I came.

I sat beside him.

Neither of us said anything.

The silence between us wasn't empty.

It was full.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I had to prove I was okay.

Ava's Journal Entry:

"I am still learning how to feel safe in stillness.

But the people who deserve to stay will never punish you for being quiet.

They'll just wait with you."