~Prepare yourself for like, the entire timeline of my post-break-up experience lol~
What do you do when you feel like you’re finally getting over somebody (or something), and then all of a sudden you’re exactly where you were 2 months ago?
As of today, it has been five months since me and my ex broke up – since I left the country on holiday, and while I was away, he left the country for good. Since then, it’s been a little bit messy and not the cleanest break it could’ve been (I take responsibility for that lol) but hey, you can’t expect someone to be completely sane and rational when having to end their first relationship over something out of their control. The past 5 months have been hard and dark and sad and hopeful, all in quick succession of each other, and sometimes all at once.
The first two weeks of us not being together, I was on holiday. I was sad and still very attached, but I was busy having fun in another country with my best friends who I hadn’t seen in years. He and I were even still texting each other as if we were still together. It wasn’t until I got back to Wellington two weeks later that I felt like my whole world was ending. I felt empty. But I did all I could do to make myself feel productive and healthy – I made sure I spent time with friends, I started to do nice things for myself, I allowed myself to be sad and take my time with deleting the photos of us and throwing away the dead flowers he gave me a month before. I felt empty, but I was working on it.
Then, summer came. I was busy with working tirelessly at the tennis tournament and that kept my hours occupied and my brain occupied. Still, I thought of him. I thought of him so much that I couldn’t stop sending him messages over Facebook even though we had agreed to stop talking to each other for ease of moving on. I thought of him so much, that I asked him if we could make it work. Told him that I would figure it out and move there for him if I had to, I just wanted to be with him. As you can imagine, I didn’t get the answer I wanted. And that crushed me. Welcome to the next stage of my grief: anger. I was so incredibly angry at him for not wanting to talk about making it work, and I thought our relationship must’ve meant nothing to him and I wasn’t good enough for him to try.
Soon enough, my own thoughts ate away at me and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving things with him in such a negative way. So I reached out (again – so pathetic) and we actually managed to talk it out. It gave me closure. It also meant I really had to move on. It was like Break-Up Round Two. Cue getting swapped out of the lead role in the upcoming opera, and then cue upcoming depression stage. Now this stage was lonely. I was living by myself and couldn’t find the energy to do anything. I was constantly crying, adding new songs to my Break-Up Playlist, taking long baths and binge-watching Being Mary Jane. I even joined Tinder and tried to find him in everyone I met.
Then uni started about four months after the break-up, and after a few weeks I started to forget about him. Among all the music I had to learn and all the things on my plate, somehow the thought of “us” finally cemented in my brain as something that was over, something that was in the past that doesn’t exist anymore. I felt good, like I was progressing and really starting to get over him. I could talk about him casually in conversation without it being so heavy, I started to like all the space in my bed that I had to myself, and there were hardly any nights that I cried about him. Things were looking super hopeful.
Now, this was my two steps forward. Progress, right? Not quite. A couple of weeks ago I started to feel sad again for some reason. I started to miss him, maybe even more intensely than before. I still saw us as something in the past, I even started to like being single, but I just missed him. And that’s where I am, currently. I’ve been crying more and adding more songs to my Break-Up Playlist and I hate it. It’s been five months. This shouldn’t be happening. I should be out there taking care of myself and forgetting about him and moving on. But I can’t seem to. I can’t help but think about what he’s doing, where he is, whether he’s met someone and if she’s like me or better than me. Does he remember me fondly, or have I ruined that? Because I sure as hell still think the sun shines out of his ass even on a bad day.
I wonder if I’ll always feel this way. I wonder if, maybe I’ll forget about him and then one day I’ll see a photo of him on Facebook with another girl and just lose it. I picture what will happen if I see that he is engaged in a year’s time (he’s already 25 so it’s a possibility!) and all the work I did to get over him comes crashing down and I feel like my life is over. I worry that he’ll never reply to any of my messages and see me as a nuisance if I want to catch up over the phone in a few months. I worry that he’ll always have this handle on me, and he knows it. I worry that after some time if I go to where he is, he won’t want to see me.
The worries and the wondering and the thinking never stops. It feels like this process is never-ending. Just when I think I’m starting to get better, I’m right where I used to be, and I don’t know how to make it better.