I’m having a funeral for our failed relationship.
A funeral for what once was and what wasn’t.
I’m having a funeral to bury the past.
I’m having a funeral to move forward.
I’m having a funeral to have my own closure.
I’m having a funeral to close that chapter of my life, because the time has come. It was sick, like a cancer. A slow, painful death is what the demise of us felt like. Until one day, it just died. And the grieving of the relationship, much like the grieving of a loved one, came in waves. It came all at once and not at all. The numbness and shock was the first phase. And then the pain of reality hit. And again, just like the normal grieving process, it comes up when you least expect it. It comes up when you think you’re doing better. When you think you’ve moved on.
Well now I’m here to say, I’m having a funeral.
A funeral that is long overdue. A funeral that should’ve been had long before, but funerals for relationships can only happen when you’re ready to put them to rest. And I guess this is me being ready. It’s painful and it’s scary letting go. But it’s time.
I’m ready to bury you. I’m ready to put you in my past. I’m ready to accept the pain I’ve felt. I’m ready to accept that despite the trials and tribulations I put myself through, things don’t always work out in my favor. I’m ready to accept that life isn’t always fair. To accept that things won’t always work out as planned, but they always work out for the better. To accept that I used you as a challenge to prove my worth to some extent. I’m ready to bury the pain and toxicity that no longer serves me.
I’m having a funeral to let go. To face the death straight in the face and accept that it was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less. To come to terms with the fact that no, we won’t be coming back. Ever. Because apart, we’re both in better places.
Our time has come to an end.
I’m having a funeral.
And I’m saying goodbye to you.