Tequila and Tea

Oof. That one hits.
Love bombed and then left unread —
as if your heart was a pop-up shop
he wandered through
only to ghost when the glitter settled.

First came the flood:
the voice notes, the compliments,
the “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Then?
Silence.
A read receipt at 11:11
and nothing but the hollow ache of
what the hell just happened?

Here’s what happened:
You didn’t do anything wrong.
You opened.
You let yourself hope.
You believed in potential.

And that’s not naïve.
That’s courage in a world that thrives on irony and detachment.

Being love bombed isn’t about you lacking anything.
It’s about someone who doesn’t yet know how to hold what they chased.

They wanted your light.
They just didn’t realize it would require presence,
not performance.

So if you’re sitting with that ache —
know this:

You were not too much.
You were a mirror.
You were a moment of truth.

And one day, someone’s going to see your fire
and stay.

Until then,
pour yourself a glass,
wrap yourself in your own arms,
and remember:

The right one doesn’t disappear when it’s time to go deeper.
He shows up.
Every damn time.