Author: RAVIOLIS

The thought of Katarina becoming someone who drifts from one empty connection to the next, losing herself in a life of fleeting encounters—that’s my deepest fear. I can hardly bear the idea. She was once this beautiful, kind-hearted person, someone full of promise, someone I trusted with everything in me. To think of her losing that spark, that goodness, and becoming someone I don’t even recognize is haunting.

She was my light, my reason for wanting to be better, to grow and give her the life she deserved. I can’t shake the hope that she still carries that sweetness somewhere inside her, that she’s found stability and love with someone she genuinely cares for. That’s all I want for her—to be cherished, to be loved, to be happy.

And so I pray, for both of us. I ask for the strength to let her go and the peace to find my own path forward, while trusting that she’s somewhere safe, living a life that honors the person I once knew.

She was like an angel once.

The one thought that gives me any comfort is knowing that she told me she loved the man I found on Katarinas doorstep. In some strange way, that makes it easier. At least she wasn’t just picking up random men from the bar. I have had so many nightmares that she had turned into a whore. She found someone she loves, someone who fills a part of her that I no longer can. That’s all I can hope.

I’ve been setting some of the hardest goals of my life. Each day is packed from beginning to end with work, fitness, Bible study, managing my diet, and staying disciplined. Today might have been one of the most intense days I’ve had. A full shift at work, two trips to Home Depot, fitness in the morning and again after work, and a lot of back-and-forth emails with other managers before I finally called it a night.

The more I push, the prouder I feel, even though every ounce of it takes a toll. If I can keep this up, just for six more months, I’ll be that much closer to becoming someone I can respect, someone I can be proud of. The sacrifices, the time, the discipline—it’s all worth it. I’m learning to lean into the grind, knowing that one day it will pay off.

There’s a satisfaction in seeing myself transform. I might not have her, but I have this purpose, this drive. And for the first time, I feel like I’m truly putting myself first, embracing what it means to build a life I can be proud of, one that doesn’t rely on anyone else but me.

Living each day without Katarina. That’s the hardest goal.

Today was the hardest day yet, a day that tested every ounce of strength I have. This job is stretching me to my limits, but I’m giving 1,000% of myself. I’m figuring out problems I’ve never had to solve before, tackling challenges totally new to me. Being a maintenance engineer is demanding everything in me. And even as I push myself to become the best version of myself, to be capable, strong, and resilient, I know deep down it won’t be enough to make Katarina love me again.

It’s one of the hardest truths to accept—that she’s chosen someone else, that I’m not the man she wants anymore. Part of me knows it’s time to let her go, to let her become whoever she wants to be, even if it’s a version of her that feels unfamiliar and distant. She’s different now; she spends her nights in the bar, lost in drinks and smoke, surrounded by people who don’t know her the way I did.

I don’t know how long she’s been with him, or how much her life has changed, but I pray she’s found love, that he’s more than a fleeting comfort. I hope she’s safe, that the kindness and joy she once had are still in her somewhere, that she’s not drowning in a world of strangers and intoxication.

When I think back to when we first met, it’s as if I’m remembering someone else entirely. There was a time when she was my world, my inspiration, my light. She made me want to be a better man. She gave me a reason to push myself, to believe I could be more. And I tried, with everything in me, to be worthy of her, to be the man she deserved. But somewhere along the way, we lost each other. I was slow, cautious, waiting for everything to be perfect, not realizing that sometimes, waiting too long means watching something beautiful slip away.

I see now that it’s too late. She’s moved on, maybe even forgotten the life we once imagined. But a part of me still holds on to the memory of who she was. I wish, more than anything, that she could see the man I am now—the man I’ve become because of her. I wish she’d notice that all this hard work, this growth, this change, is because she once made me believe I could be more. But I know she’s not looking my way anymore; she’s chosen another path, with another man.

Still, that’s why I have to keep going. Even if she never comes back, even if the girl I loved is truly gone, I want to keep fighting. I want to honor who she was, and who I became because of her. I want to keep believing that somewhere, the memory of our love will carry me forward, giving me strength to keep going, to become the man I always hoped I’d be.

Prayer:

Lord, give me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to hold on to what’s left of me, and the wisdom to grow beyond this. Help me to release what I need to, to focus on the path You have for me. Let me find purpose in this struggle, and let this pain be a step toward something better, something lasting. I know I can’t do this alone; I need You, God. Give me a reason to keep moving forward, to keep fighting, to become someone worthy of the love and dreams I once held close. Amen.

Please, God, I’m giving everything I have. Day by day, I’m pouring myself into becoming the best version of me. Every workout, every lesson at my new job, each moment—I want them to build me up, to shape me into someone strong. I have no one now, no anchor. But I want to believe in You, to find in You the purpose and hope that I need.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” — Philippians 4:13

This strength, God, I know it comes from somewhere greater than myself. I’m empty without You, but I know that with You, I can be filled with strength, resilience, and purpose. I’m reaching out, asking You to fill this void, to be the foundation I need to build upon.

As I walk this path, I pray for her too, Lord. Katarina was my best friend, the person I loved deeply. In the silence that remains, I think of her often, and I hope she’s safe, protected, and on a path to happiness. I loved her, truly, but I see now that I was waiting, foolishly, for her to return, hoping she would leave the bar life behind and find her way back. I hoped with every piece of me that if I just waited, she would come back.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” — 1 Corinthians 13:4

But patience has taught me a different lesson now. Real love is not about waiting or trying to change someone. Love is about acceptance, and I know now that I have to let her go, to respect her choices, to wish her the best on her journey—even if it’s one I don’t understand. Love means letting go, and entrusting both our futures to You.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” — Jeremiah 29:11

God, I don’t know what’s next, but I trust that You do. Help me to trust Your plan. I wanted so badly to show her the woman I believed she could be, to help her see the goodness in herself that I saw in her. But I know now that I can’t change her—I can only work on myself. Becoming the man I want to be means focusing on my own growth, my own journey, and releasing her to her own path.

Please, Lord, give me the strength to grow, to learn, to find my purpose in You. I know I need to make so many changes, and I can’t do it alone. I need the courage to keep going, to lift myself up, and to move beyond this loss. I pray for wisdom, for patience, and for the will to keep growing. I pray to be a man who stands with integrity, who values his own worth, who holds onto hope.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9

Each day, I’m stepping forward into a new life, a life built on faith, resilience, and a deep belief that, with You by my side, I can become who I need to be. I will work hard, not for anyone else, but to honor the life You’ve given me. I pray for the strength to keep going, to embrace the unknown, and to grow closer to You. Thank you, Lord, for being here, even when I am lost.

I’m just so glad she’s in love with him, that she found someone who makes her happy. She told me she loves him, and I want to believe her—want to believe that somewhere within her, the sweetness I once adored still remains. Katarina was my whole world, the only person I think I’ll ever love, and the thought of her being different from the girl I knew tears at everything I hold dear.

I couldn’t bear to imagine her as someone drifting through men at the bar, caught up in fleeting moments, having casual encounters. That would unravel everything—the person I cherished would be lost, and I’d be left with nothing but a shadow. I want so desperately to know that the person I loved was real. That the love I felt for her wasn’t built on illusions. I hope, with everything in me, that she was always the girl I believed in.

I’ll hold on to this prayer, this whisper in the dark that gives me peace. Please, God, let her be happy, let her be in love. Let her find something true, something real. And let me remember her as she was—kind, innocent, and full of light. Let that be the memory I carry, the piece of her I keep, even as I walk forward alone.

Help me let go of this pain, God. Help me see past this grief that has become like a weight on my chest. Give me strength to move on, to trust that there’s a purpose, even if it’s hidden from me now. I don’t want bitterness to settle in. I don’t want my heart to close off from the world. Just help me find a way to keep believing in love, in goodness, in something beyond this hurt.

I know I have to find my path now, and I’ll hold on to whatever hope I can. I’ll try to be at peace, knowing she’s found a place for herself in this world, even if it’s not with me. And I’ll keep moving forward, trusting that someday, I’ll make peace with it all.

I’ve seen what alcohol and drugs can do to a person, and it’s made me realize how important it is to distance myself from that world. The bar, in all its dim lights and hazy promises, is one of the most dangerous places on Earth. It destroyed my father, and it’s taken Katarina too.

The bar pulls people in, one drink at a time, one night after another, until they become strangers even to themselves. I begged her to stay away from that life. I warned her about the pull of that scene, but slowly, she was transformed. The beautiful, kind-hearted girl I once knew has been swallowed up by the shadows, lost to a world that thrives on escape.

My father was the same. The bars called to him, and over time, they took everything good in him and left only emptiness. Now, seeing the same change in Katarina, I understand with painful clarity the dangers of these places, places that attract the desperate, the reckless, and the lost.

I’ve always avoided bars, knowing they’re a magnet for people who are only passing through life, living for the next drink, the next fleeting thrill. The bar she chose was no exception—a dingy room with dirt on the floor, a place that reeked of lost hope and faded dreams. Yet, she went there, spent her time there, surrounding herself with people who had nothing to give and everything to take.

It’s hard to reconcile this image with the girl I loved—the girl who was once my perfect companion, my best friend, someone I wanted to spend my life with. Now, she’s just another face in the bar, another story that got rewritten in the haze of the nightlife.

It still blows my mind, the way a person can change. Someone who once radiated kindness, warmth, and care—someone I trusted completely—becomes a stranger in a blink. Katarina wasn’t always this way. She was once the kind of person who wouldn’t spend her nights drunk and stoned, lost in smoky bars, or in the company of strangers.

She was good—at least, I thought so. She was my best friend. Every single day, I looked forward to her laugh, her voice, her presence. I thought we were unbreakable. But somehow, piece by piece, she started to drift. Her ex showed up out of nowhere, and without hesitation, she let him back in. They started going to the bar, and with him, her old habits came back.

She became someone I could hardly recognize. The cigarettes, the drinks, the late nights blurred together, until all I saw was someone hollowed out by intoxication, someone who no longer cared about the dreams we once held together. The kind, thoughtful person I loved vanished, replaced by someone I couldn’t reach.

I realize now, with painful clarity, that she’s gone—this version of her is long gone. The dreams we shared, the life we talked about, all faded into smoke and silence. I have to let go because she’s not coming back. People change, and sometimes, they walk away from everything that once mattered.

But as I retrace our steps, as I wander through the places we once explored together, I’ll remember the moments we shared. I’ll carry those memories and continue alone, finding new meaning in the journey. I’ll reshape Meepcow and see our dreams reality.

I think I’ve reached a place where I need to stop holding on to the idea that anyone’s going to stay. People have shown me, time and time again, that they don’t. And it hurts, yeah, but I don’t want to keep dwelling on that pain. Instead, I’m shifting my focus to the things that I know will be here, the things that give me something lasting.

Right now, work has become this solid part of my life. It feels like a place where I can channel everything without worrying about losing it. A good career matters—it can give you respect, purpose, a steady rhythm. So, maybe that’s one thing I can lean into. And my health? I think staying physically strong has a lot to do with feeling grounded, keeping my mind sharp, and just being here for myself. I’m realizing that when I focus on my health, it’s like I’m building a foundation, something no one can just walk away from.

And then there’s this project, the book I started with my ex. It’s strange to go back to something that was meant for two, but now it’s just me. Part of me wonders if finishing it will help bring closure, like taking all those memories and making them into something tangible. We’d traveled all over, collected these pieces of South Carolina, and now it feels right to go back, revisit those spots, and put my own words to the experience.

I think I’ll start with the biggest moment—the day I saw another man at her place. That was the day things changed. It marked the beginning of this journey I’m on now, to find meaning outside of love. I’m planning to take it step-by-step, to write each chapter as I retrace our journey, remembering what each place meant to us back then and how it feels to me now.

There’s something about this project that feels different than anything else. Maybe it’s because it’s just for me now. I’ll start gathering all the notes, the old photos, and memories, giving them a new life in this story. It’s like a puzzle I’m putting together, piece by piece, as I go back to these places and add new reflections.

It’s going to be hard, I know that. But I feel like if I can commit to this, if I can complete this project and maybe even find a way to share it, it might help fill that empty space.

Today, I worked as hard as I could. Every ounce of energy, every thought, I threw into my work. I’m determined to give this job everything I’ve got—to learn, grow, and become a truly great maintenance manager. All morning, I focused on absorbing as much knowledge as possible, aiming to be the kind of person who takes care of a place responsibly, with pride. I want to be an essential part of the team, someone others value and rely on.

When I got home, I dove right into Meepcow. I worked on it with the same intensity, pushing forward on our project as if nothing could stop me. For so long, I thought I was doing all of this to build a life with Katarina, to create something she’d want to be a part of. But now, I realize—I’m doing it for me. I’m worth more than the way she treated me, and I don’t need anyone else’s validation to prove that.

I wanted so badly to give her a perfect life, but that chapter is over. Now, I’m here, ready to push ahead, ready to work my ass off every single day to build a life I’m proud of. Today was a good day, one that reminded me of what I’m capable of when I put my mind to it. I’m ready to give life everything I’ve got.

So, I did it. I’m now a manager at a prestigious place. I now actually make good money and can support a family, but of course I’m probably too old now for anyone to want to have one with me now.. There’s going to be a lot of work ahead—no doubt about that. But I think I can handle it. I’ve made an outline, gotten organized, and I’m ready to start getting things done once I get my company card and complete the final details tomorrow. This is a big step for me, one that should feel more fulfilling. But without Katarina, it’s hard to stay motivated. She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I know she loves someone else now, so there’s no use in holding on. Still, the silence is deafening.

Last night, I broke down. I reached out to an old friend—someone who’s been there for me through so much. She knows everything about Katarina, and she wasn’t surprised by how things turned out. Still, I needed to talk, to feel some connection. In my desperation, I asked her something I never thought I’d ask anyone: to spend the day with me, just to help me feel a little less alone. I just needed someone to be there, to help with the Meepcow project, to act like they cared about me, even if it was just for a day. It feels pathetic to ask, but at this point, I don’t know what else to do.

It’s hard to feel like I’m doing everything right, trying to be the man I wanted to be for Katarina, only to find myself alone. I just wanted to give her a good life, to take care of her and make her happy. But here I am, hoping my friend will take a day to help me feel like I’m not going crazy. Asking someone to play this role, to pretend to care, feels so low, yet I’m that desperate.

But despite everything, I won’t give up. I’m determined to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward. My first day at the new job went well. There’s a lot to learn, a lot to do. In some ways, I don’t mind because it’s a distraction. Work keeps me from thinking about how Katarina left and how much it still hurts.

I’m also making progress on my health. I’ve been sticking to my workouts, getting my diet under control, and today was a good day. If I keep this up, I might be a completely different person in a year. The past year brought a lot of changes, but they didn’t mean anything to Katarina. It didn’t matter to her how hard I was trying. But this year, I’m going even further. I’m going to push myself even harder. Maybe, someday, someone will really love me. Maybe someday, someone will stay.