“Never run back to what broke you.”
I’ve never tried to describe the way I felt after he left, but here I am going to try.
Being with him gave me so much; the thing I loved the most about being with him is how much he made me love myself. I was so passionately in love with him, that passion and positivity seeped into the rest of my life, it was amazing. And then he left, and everything I had become and everything I had learned to love so much about being with him, simply didn’t exist anymore. And I broke.
At first, I felt like I was finally walking through the gate to get onto the roller coaster after waiting in line; I sort of knew what was about to happen, but not really, and there was no turning back. It started as a feeling in my gut telling me “This is it, it’s done.”
When he ended things the next day, all I felt was loss. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t heartbroken, I was mourning. I had grown so fond of him and the little habits he had, I needed time to just mourn the person- my person- that I had lost. As the days continued I felt a plethora of emotions, the most common one being sad; I cried and cried and cried.
The hardest part for me was deleting all of our messages and all of our photos. Over the course of two years, he had been a part of so many memories, he was associated with so much. I felt guilty for needing to delete them because we had so much together, but seeing them while scrolling through my phone was torture, knowing they were all past memories and would never be experienced again. I had grown to be so similar him, and grown so much because of him, deleting the traces of him made me feel like I was deleting myself.
Him and her was the most shocking change, I was baffled and overwhelmed with betrayal that they would end up together. She was my friend and he was my ex, and to see them together made my heart physically ache. The first six months were easy, because I didn’t really think about him much. I pushed myself out of the house and into new friendships in relationships, I simply didn’t have time to be upset about him. As time went on, I began to believe I was okay, so I stopped putting so much pressure on going out. As I became less and less involved with my other relationships, I became more and more consumed with regret, shame, and loneliness.
Month eight was very hard for me. I was driving to school and hydroplaned, killing my car and almost me. The hardest and most heartbreaking truth of almost dying, was that he didn’t even care. He never called to ask if I was okay, he never sent me a ‘thinking about you’ text. Knowing that he knew about my accident and simply just didn’t care about me enough to reach out to me was another huge point of my breaking, I felt worthless.
As time went on, I realized I missed out on a lot of beautiful high school memories simply because I was hurt and afraid of being hurt again. I stopped doing well in school due to my excessive outings, trying to distract myself. I stopped playing the sport I love because he played it too and I didn’t want to see him everyday. I lost so much because of him- so many friends, so many memories, so much time, so much energy and all of my love.
Now, now. The entire story is not sad, because I’m here today aren’t I? I made it through!
Over time, I began to talk to people about the way I was feeling and how terrible he made me feel. Two years later and I still wince every time someone says his name, I still have photos I could never delete, I still call him when I’m drunk telling him I miss him, I still cry when I hear ‘our songs’ and the worst part, I still receive messages from him on a regular basis admitting how wrong he was and how in love with me he is- yet he still doesn’t want to make it work. I still feel all these ways and do all these things because he was such a humongous part of my life for such a humongous period of time, I miss him. I pray at night that God will send him back into my life and wish on 11:11 that he will realize he wants something to do with me. I’m weak and its upsetting and I wish I wasn’t
When I get these overwhelming feelings of loneliness, regret and sadness, I begin to look at the entire situation. I was manipulated and emotionally abused for years, by a man who was in another relationship for the majority of that time. Four years after we first started talking and two long years after we broke up, and I’m still manipulated by him and the things he says. As heartbreaking as it is and as difficult as it is to walk away, I know I could never go back, and I know I never will. I’ve learned that no matter how many times he tries to tell me he cares, I will still always care more, I will still always be the broken one, I will still always be the one who needs more. That is upsetting and awful and heartbreaking, but I refuse to let the man who broke me break me again, simply because he is still unaware of what he wants.