Tessa is the voice in your head that gets louder after midnight.
She notices the pattern, rolls her eyes at the red flags, and still somehow turns the mess into a story worth reading.
Part advice. Part confession. Part bad influence.
She’s probably thought the same thing you have.
The stories are real. The names aren’t.
Dear Tessa,
I think what hurts the most is realizing how much I ignored my own feelings just to keep him around. There were so many moments where something didn’t sit right, where I felt uncomfortable, unsure, or ju
It does not feel like waiting at first.
It feels like patience.
Like you are being understanding, giving things space to develop, allowing time for something real to unfold. It feels matu
It was nothing.
Not even a conversation. Not even a real interaction. Just proximity. Just existing in the same space for a second longer than usual.
And somehow… I noticed it.
unfiltered. a little dangerous.