I won’t talk about why, how or what made us break up. It was a sweet ending to a book I thought I’d never give up, ever. It felt like a never-ending story, until it didn’t. Lines became a little hazy and words seemed to make no sense. I didn’t keep reading for too long after.
It was by far the most romantic, enthralling, and addictive book I’ve ever read but I’ve put it back to an almost empty bookshelf, unfinished, and I won’t be opening it back up.
Relationship goals: moving on after breaking up
Or you know, just not give a fuck. For a long time I made decisions based on “us” rather than for “myself”. I based all of my decisions on whether it would give me time to focus on the relationship. The decisions I made were never professionally nor emotionally detrimental for me, it was the opposite. He pushed me to become a better, more responsible, and honest person. I just didn’t realize how many times I put myself last.
The first few years I skipped out on getaways and eurotrips, whether it’d be with family or friends, partly because I was in school but mostly because I didn’t want to travel without him. And It sounds awful now that I actually type it out for myself.
A few months before our break up I decided to go on vacation around Europe with my family. The thought of him not being able to come with me didn’t bother me, not even for a second. It felt strange. I think this was one of the moments I realized it would be ok to be alone. And it felt good to be selfish; a little unnerving, but good.
I happen to feel a little excited about this one. My life felt consumed at every turn. Being in a long-distance relationship, let alone any type of relationship, can become a little exhausting. Of course, this is included in the package and you either cope or you don’t; we coped for 5 years. And right now, I don’t want to feel any sense of dismay for anyone other than myself.
I blame it on how great the break up went because it’s been well over a month and I haven’t felt too much sorrow. The only times I actually feel sad or alone is when I think of all the good times we shared. For a really long time I was scared of how sad I’d be being alone, or without him. It doesn’t anymore. I’m excited to care for only myself.
I’m not going to try and sugarcoat it. I was clingy. We both were. It was a five-year long distance relationship. I spent every possible second I could with him and I never felt like I needed space. We talked on the phone and FaceTimed everyday. Oddly enough, we always had something to talk about. Being apart was difficult but every time we finally got our hands on each other again, it just felt like it started all over again. It was incredible.
It was like overplaying my favorite song and never getting sick of it. Until one day I went to hit the next button but it wouldn’t change. It was too much, too soon and as badly as I want to keep overplaying the next song again and again, I know I shouldn’t.
I found myself always wanting to get an approval before I did anything drastic. It feels strange to say but I was very dependent on an approval, mostly because I’m impulsive and purposely ignore the cost/benefit analysis. I still feel it at times. I feel the need to ask someone what I should do before I make a decision. This is definitely something I’ll need to drastically learn a thing or two on.
The thing I dread the most is probably having to start over and feel comfortable with some one else. When we started dating I always felt comfortable, like I could be myself. I am not like that. I am awkward and shy and it takes a village to actually get me to talk about myself; it makes me feel uneasy. I’m not looking forward to feeling comfortable with someone else, not even a little bit.