Break Ups
Break ups are hard, especially when it’s the last thing you want to do but it’s what you have to initiate to be free. I broke up with the love of my life in January. Shortly after, my aunt died and I was harassed by someone in my Co-ed Frat. Then the U.S. got destroyed by COVID-19. It was truly the worst few months of my life. It’s also easy to romanticize past toxic relationships and disregard why you left it in the first place. Sometimes I find myself wanting to go back to him, my first love– but then I realized that the “him” I wanted didn’t exist anymore. He isn’t here. The person I met in a sense had died… It’s nice to know that, though. It’s nice to look back and not have somewhere or someone to run back to because now it’s just me, myself, and I. After Raymond and I broke up I got so so depressed. I sat in my bed for days and just cried. I think I lost about 5-7 pounds because I would never eat. I felt this emptiness in my heart and soul that would consume everything but leave behind nothing. I knew it wasn’t me that was the issue and it wasn’t him, but it was us together.
I remember when we first started dating. It was so so beautiful. He was kind, gentle, loving, genuine, and so in love with me. He was willing to do anything for me, and I for him. It’s ironic, really, that when we first started dating I wasn’t sure if I wanted the relationship. I was a bit skeptical and always had one foot our the door, and in the end of our relationship, the roles were reversed. I don’t know if it was character development, but I was growing up to see the good in people, finally. I understood that people’s characters are not defined by a singular action or thought, so I thought maybe he was still in love with me even though he constantly lashed out at me and would get angry at me. Maybe he was still in love with me even though he ignored my texts. Maybe he was still in love with me even though he didn’t act like it. Because in my head, I would do the same thing to him but I loved him so much, but that wasn’t the case.
He wasn’t in love with me.
He wasn’t in love with me.
He wasn’t in love with me.
At least not anymore.
And never again.
I was hoping that the 2 years of our relationship would turn into decades. The minutes of laughter would turn into hours. And our love would last forever. I still hope that sometimes. And it pains me to say that I will always love him. But.
He isn’t in love with me.
He’ll never be in love with me.
And I need to move on.
