Understanding love: When to move on
Love is a very controversial feeling, as intangible as it is, the effect of it could rage war inside of us. It changes us, It devours us. It conquers us. It makes us. And the scariest part of it is that it breaks us all the same.
So what is love? Is it when you care about someone? Is it when you like someone? Or is it when you like and care about someone? We love our friends, our family.
Then what is it like to be in love? It has got to be a touch deeper than just love. I love my friends, but would I die for them? Maybe not.
Is it when you can’t live without them? Or is it when life feels more complete when you are with them? Is it when you come through the door and drop down your stuff and run to them for a hug which puts a smile on your face after your boss sent you an email about how you’re falling behind your colleagues? Or is it when you have had the absolute worst day of your life where everything and everyone is turning against you but holding them makes you feel like life is a little bit more manageable, especially with them by your side.
And when they leave, it feels like a part of your soul is torn apart and left with them.
So this is for all the girls hurting in their relationship, hoping it will get better and don’t have the courage to spread their wings out and fly away even if their subconscious is screaming at them.
I fell in love with a certain someone. It was like a warm summer evening at the beach, the waves are slowly crashing and the sun is just about to set, not blaringly hot. The breeze is slowly blowing at your skin and you can smell the sea salt that you are so accustomed to. And when you wiggle your toes, you can feel the warm sand, a solid ground you know you can fall on and won’t hurt you how a concrete would. That was how that love felt like, at least in the beginning.
And just like any other things in life, it changed. After all, change is the only constant in life. So, what did I do to stay at the beach? Everything that I could. And what did I achieve? A lot of scars from falling onto the sand because I didn’t see the concrete underneath.
When we first met, it was full of love. I have never met someone who I could vibe with that well. It was like I found another twin of mine. We laughed at the same jokes. We understood each other’s humour. We made fun of anything and anyone like two naughty kids. We were like best friends.
I thought it was my happily ever after but I was wrong. I didn’t know I had to end it at some point to keep my own sanity.
I was happy, until I wasn’t anymore. I thought it was just a phase. Every couple goes through a phase, after all. I was holding onto a lot of happy memories, and his words. His empty words that I’ve gotten so accustomed to. Actions never followed through but I kept hoping that maybe if I waited long enough, it would come. But one night, things broke down into pieces. I found out he cheated.
Was I surprised? No? Was I disappointed? Of course. I hated how I expected it. It used to be a mistake and it took me 3 years and a few betrayals to realised it was never an honest mistake. There were telltale signs, which I chose to ignore.
At the moment, I had a flash of how my future would look like if I were to stay.
I was terrified to be alone. Ending the relationship felt like jumping into the ocean blindfolded but at that moment, I felt more scared of still being with him ten years down the road and still going thru what I’ve been going through, all because I was scared to take a leap of faith, and scared to be alone.
Once I uttered those words, I felt free, strangely. I didn’t expect it but it felt like I broke the shackles I tied my own hands with.
Of course, I grieved. For all the memories we shared, the future we could have had, the puppy we were planning to adopt together, the apartment we were planning to get, the evenings together, and for all the times I leaned into his embrace whenever life got a little too unkind, and all the times he made me laugh with a tear-stained face, I grieved. That night, I prayed to the universe that it was my last lesson to learn before I could have my happily ever after because I didn’t have it in me to learn another.
Let’s start from the beginning, why I was okay with those actions from him. Was it self-esteem? No. I knew I was great. I knew I was beautiful, attractive, educated and well-mannered. The list goes on. So, what was it? I was scared, scared of being alone. Scared that I wouldn’t have someone to call or talk to, or to rely on.
My whole life, I always had to depend on myself. I wasn’t entirely close with my family. I grew up with my aunt and my grandmother. So, I always craved for a relationship and that part of me got me into relationships that weren’t the best for me. And this was another one of them.
We tend to forgive a lot of actions when it comes to our relationships. We, as women, we always try to see the best in our SO. If they had done something wrong, we would often try to forgive, forget, move past it and hope that they will change and actually keep their word not to repeat the same mistake. But does it always work out in our favor? Our understanding often leads us to suffer more.
What did I try to understand?
Anger issues, his demeaning and insulting outbursts, which he claimed I deserved because I upset him and I was stressing him out. How did I justify it? I blamed it on the environment he grew up in which he had no control over. He tried a little at a time to be better but in the end, I realized I would always have to understand it my whole life.
Lying, he did a lot of it all because he wanted to keep the peace. Instead of not doing certain actions so that he wouldn’t have to lie, he did whatever he wanted and lied so that he wouldn’t upset me.
Whenever we were going through a rough patch, he would often divert his attention to other women. Once, it was a mistake. Twice, it became a pattern.
After 2 years of ups and downs, I became a completely different person. I used to run to him to hug him whenever I went to see him. I would get excited just to spend time with me. Slowly, I became a shell of a person whenever I was with him. Spending time with him started to feel like a chore. I didn’t think much about it until kissing him felt like a chore as well and intimacy would often end up with me tearing up right after. I started lying. I became rude whenever we argued when a year ago, I never would have talked to him like that. I started talking to another guy as well. I hated who I was becoming and yet, I still couldn’t find the courage to break up.
I was crying every day in the shower. But that night I found out, I fell apart. It was my breaking point. I was looking at what my life would be like if I continued to stay with him, tried to understand him and justified his actions for him. That was when I decided I wanted at least as much as I was giving him and that I deserved better. I accepted that we just weren’t meant to be.
A day after we broke up, I felt relieved. It felt like I could finally breathe. But two days after, I started to think whether we could work out. We talked. I missed him. I wanted to see whether we could try our best and give it our all one last time. But deep down, I was scared of getting hurt again and I knew I wanted more. I knew this person couldn’t be my life partner. I wouldn’t allow it. So, I stopped entertaining the idea of getting back together.
But completely cutting the contact was a different thing altogether. I didn’t have the willpower. After all, he was my partner, my best friend, my pillar and my everything. We had our own inside jokes. We could finish each other’s sentences. We knew what we were thinking just by looking at each other’s face. He was my home. I knew it would just prolong the pain. But maybe if I let him go slowly, pieces by pieces while his silhouette was still there, I could still find the comfort in it. I would allow myself at least that.
Slowly, I tried to text him less, called him less. He didn’t push it and for that, I was grateful.
It’s been 13 days. I remembered because it was on New Years night. I was barely holding myself together until after the clock stroke 12. I knew it was over before I said it. I just wanted to spend our last New Year’s Eve together. I wanted to still hold onto him as much as I could. I have to say that it was quite a memorable start to a new year.
All the thoughts that were going through my head during the 13 days were something along the lines of, “How could he?” “Did I not matter?” “How could he not care about hurting me?” “How could he betray me like that?” “How could he do that while I was begging him to show me that he cared?” and of course, “Did 3 years together not matter to him?”
A day after we ended it, I felt proud of myself. Two days after, I was pissed at him for ruining our future. But then again, it took two to tango. In that moment, however, my anger towards him was justified. So, I scolded him. I sobbed, in the shower, in the corner of my room, rocking myself because the pain was too overwhelming. I felt like dying. 3 days after, I felt a little better. I gave myself a pet on the back and said I was proud of myself and that I did a great job of letting go. 4 days after, it was back to square one.
So you could see the pattern here. What I wanted and what I needed was blaringly in contrast and they were in constant war.
Two days ago, for a moment, I felt that I made a right decision and I was hopeful for my future. Yesterday, I fell apart while I was working out at the gym because he texted me that we shouldn’t talk anymore. I knew that was the right thing to do. I knew we had no future.
So why did it hurt all over again?
Today, I kept thinking about it. He called me. We talked. We had no future. Yet, it still felt very bleak. I missed him. Maybe eventually, it would get easier but I would need time, a lot of time, and a lot of strength.
As a desperate attempt to move on, I downloaded a dating application. Needless to say, it’s not a healthy move, nor a helpful one. So, I would advise against it. I was trying to run away from the pain. And when the memories resurface and the emotions get the best of you, you’re supposed to sit with it and work through it. Facing it head on was for the brave, I was still not there yet.
But sit with it. Cry if you have to. Scream if you have to. My way of dealing with it was by focusing on other guys, but this better be the last resort. Break ups suck. They are scary. But never stay with someone at your expense. We, women, have more to lose if we stay with the wrong person.
We often worry about the sunk cost. “We have already invested so much time, so many years, so many things; a house, a pet, children in the mix.” But does it really matter if the father of your children is not really much of a man? What would that teach your children? If it is necessary to leave a man in order to keep your peace, do it. You were born alone. You will die alone. Get used to it. Never let a man show you twice how much he doesn’t respect you or care about your feelings.
Get another man if you want to. You will have a 50/50 chance of not having to cry in the shower.
Relationships often teach us more about ourselves than others, what we actually want or what we actually need from others. It is important to be aware of our own needs first before we reach out to fill other cups. If you aren’t, you will drown and you wouldn’t even notice it.
If you have been stuck in bad relationships, recognise the pattern and break free from it. It will be exactly like the elephants and their shackles, you are so used to it that you don’t know you can walk away from it even if there are no physical chains. So don’t tie yourself down. Just spread your wings and fly high.
Milene Estel: Love & Life 