The Ramblings

17 Sep

When more than 60 days have passed and you find yourself realizing things that you were too pained to admit before, you think that probably, just probably you’re actually taking a step forward to moving on.

It has been a lot of firsts for me these past months. I never knew I could fall that hard from a pedestal I didn’t thought I would ever fall from. I was so sure that the love I had with him was that one thing that I would never lose. I crumbled pretty bad when I lost it. I became an embarrassing wreck. Everything I feared of becoming when I was young was exactly what I became. I became a sappy, pathetic, broken romantic. I struggled to understand what was happening and I wanted so desperately to make him take me back. I lost any need of self-respect. I was willing to do anything as an attempt to save what I thought we had. But I’m glad he didn’t take me back. I’m thankful that he was man enough to stand his ground. If he took me back out of pity, my life would’ve probably become more miserable than how it was. He didn’t love me anymore. That much was clear, and I knew it but I wanted to change it. I couldn’t understand how he could fall out of love that fast. I couldn’t accept the fact that I really had this innate inability of keeping my boyfriends stay in love with me. It’s sad but I’m better now to admit that. My friends are mad at him because they saw how hurt I was. They keep saying that if he really fell out of love, he should’ve handled the situation differently. But really, how else could he have handled it? No matter how he did it, no matter how softly he’d try to tell me, it wouldn’t make the pain any lesser. How ever he did it, it will always be wrong to me because I never, not even once did I ever think that this was going to happen. And anyway, how could something like that be right? Getting hurt was inevitable. I should’ve known better than to believe that something that was that beautiful would last forever. I was actually that naive to even think that he would sweep me off my feet and marry me and have children with me and build a life with me. I always thought I was mature for this when I’ve only been in one other relationship that ended with my first boyfriend falling out of love as well. Reality can be a bitch. But I have to face that fact — again, i have the inability to keep my boyfriends stay in love with me. Whew. That felt good; to have that out of my chest.

I’m taking one day at a time, reflecting on the things that happened these past months. Why I had frequent trips to bipolar-landia. One day I’d feel sad and then I’d feel hurt and then I’d be okay and then I’d fall apart again and then i’d have gazillion realizations and then i’d end up contradicting myself again. It’s really not a fun place to be in. I need to understand myself so that I’d be able to completely close this book. I’ve blamed the failure of my relationship on other people. And i’ve been angry and hurt because of this. Other friends have encouraged me to be mad but I know I’m better than that. I know I could get through this without pinning my mistakes on other people. It wasn’t someone else, it was me. The sooner I accept that, the better I’ll be.

I’m slowly getting good at accepting that this part of my life is over. Sure, I still miss not being single. And I still think I’m bad at being alone. But I’m getting better at it. I miss him. But not as much as I did before. I still get hurt thinking about how he just decided that he didn’t love me anymore. But I now understand that it’s for the best.

Someone once told me that this kind of pain is one of the most beautiful things in life. I didn’t really agree at that time. But now, I can slowly understand why. You never really grow up until you’ve had your heart broken several times. The naivety never really leaves you till experience erases it. And ironically, you’ll never truly fall in love until you know how it is to get hurt because of love.:)


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