Tired, broken, and sad. These are the words I am not very fond of using to describe how I feel, but right now, I am in no doubt those three depressing words.
I never thought that I’d come to this. After seven long years of togetherness, I have given all my best to fill our days with love and excitement because I knew for sure how much I loved him, and that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with him. Yet today, I have decided once and for all, and admitted to myself that I am nowhere close to the girl who fell madly in love with him for the first time. I was no longer the girl who would fight for him against all odds. I stopped being the girl who’d miss him the minute he walks out the door, or the girl who gets jealous with the girl he had a crush on a few years back. No matter how I try to still be that girl who would stand by her words and keep her promises, the truth is, that girl died a few months ago.
In our seven years of being together, my world revolved around him. Everytime he tried to say goodbye, I was always willing to throw my pride on the ditch just to save the crumbling pieces of our relationship. It was hard, but I loved him, and he mattered more to me than anything else.
This was not the first time that he broke my heart. Three years ago, he had broken up with me. I asked him to stay but he coldly shrugged me off and told me that he did not love me anymore. I begged him to stay, but his mind was made up—and I was devastated.
It took me months to accept the fact that it really was over and that he was not going to come back anymore. My life then had been but a routine, and not a single day would pass by without me thinking of him. I have become a cliché of the person who carried through life but did not live at all. And it was then when I had the wondrous discovery that a couple bottle of beer can help you get through the lonely, empty nights. I wanted to stay strong and learn how to move on, but the truth was I was far from being that. I consoled myself by listening to sad love songs hoping that anger and too much sadness can just drown the misery inside me so I can finally let go. But it did not. And I still couldn’t let go.
But as they say, you can only truly forget when someone new and far better comes along. That person came into my life. It’s weird that we got close when I was no longer in a relationship. We’d constantly text each other and share about the things we love, how our day went. We were getting to know each other better, and getting closer. I was enchanted. He was smart and kind, and we were similar in many ways. We both shared a passion for books, travel, and writing—and food! Finally, we were planning to go and have lunch one weekend, but as fate would play its game, my ex boyfriend texted me and said he wanted to talk—he wanted me back. The walls I built for months crumpled like sandcastles and suddenly, everything felt like the first day he left me. In that moment, I felt like I never really stopped loving him—it was still him. So I agreed to meet him.
Suddenly, the man who taught me how to smile again was out of the picture. I suddenly ignored his messages and would rarely reply to them. I felt sorry for him—for what could have been an us—and the happy days. There was no easy way for me to say it, and so I decided not to tell him. Behind the pretense of my sorry excuse, I gave him a box of muffins hoping it would, in some way cushion the blow. It was the last time I saw him. I surprised him and went to his office and handed him my sorry-box-of-undeserving-love-muffin. His sweet smile broke my heart into pieces.
Looking back to that day, a part of me still feels the sting of regret that I have given up on what could have been a shot at happiness—a different kind of happiness. Instead, I am here again, in that road where I once was—broken.
Over and over, each time we had a big fight, he would tell me he does not love me at all. He’d tell me I deserved all the misery, all the pain. I am broken and crushed over and over again.
All that is left of me now are but pieces of what I used to be, and my heart is writhing in pain every night. Yes, I love him, but my pain had been greater and it grows even bigger every day. If I allow myself to stay and pretend that nothing is wrong, I know I would die every day. Every piece of me will be gone.
I wanted to tell him how I feel, but I am so afraid of what could happen next. I am afraid that, once I let go of him, I might never find this kind of love again. But I know that deep down, I need to do this for myself.
I need my happiness back.
I need my freedom back.
I need redemption.