Everywhere I go, I see his face
And it’s kind of my fault
This may be the last installment of this miniseries I’ve made, it’s the last Monday before my last psychology exam, but definitely not the last time I’ll be bringing up this topic.
I’ve spent a lot of the last couple days looking back at the person I was at the beginning of this semester — well, not exactly the beginning, but from early February and onwards. I still don’t have it in me to look back at my old posts just yet, it still brings me back to the mind space I was in when I was first going through my breakup.
Right now, I’m thinking about how much I’ve progressed in the past three months.
It’s been exactly three months since I was broken up with. 90 days. A lot can happen in ninety days. Never have I thought my life would take such a drastic turn, at the beginning of the year it wouldn’t’ve even been a thought in my head.
But today, I can sit here and write this without tearing up, without feeling like I can’t breathe. I can write this without thinking the most evil thoughts towards him. Today I can sit here and think of all the love I gave and received, all the good memories I had, and all that I learned.
Last night I had another dream about him. Shocking, I know. It seems like I can’t escape him, even when I’m unconscious. This dream was different. I woke up with answers. Lately I’ve been wondering quite a lot, wondering about his feelings and current perception of me, wondering what he says to other people when they ask about me, wondering what he’s been up to. Last night I got my answers. I don’t think they were real answers, of course I’d never truly know unless I asked him. I woke up feeling at peace, though, and that’s much more progress than I would’ve ever expected to make.
I know he’s moving on, and slowly, I am too.
Though, last week, I regressed a little bit. I knew he’d be downtown during the day, so after my final exam I took a train to the city and walked all day, for hours, just to get a glimpse of him. I don’t know why I did it, I guess I just wanted to see how I’d feel if I saw him in public again — see how he’d react — maybe even gauge if I was ready to see him again.
The answer was no. I was not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. Truly.
I guess I’m glad we didn’t cross paths. It was nice to finally leave the house though. I wish everything I did wasn’t out of spite. I wish he didn’t control my life so much while not even being part of it anymore.
In a way, he’s always been controlling my life, ever since I met him. It’s not his fault, I don’t know if he ever knew how much my days revolved around him. How I planned my weeks around him, my work schedule, my class schedule, I’d decide if I would go home to see my mother depending on if we’d go out that weekend or not.
Even today, I only go out if I think I’ll run into him. I only get dressed up and do my makeup if I think he’ll see me. It’s depressing, honestly.
No one has ever consumed me so much.
It makes me sick.
I’ve spent the past week thinking about my actions. Were they smart? Definitely not. But did it teach me something? I mean, maybe? I learned I’m still not ready to see him, but I’ve still come so far, and that should mean something, right?
I think I’m starting to find myself again, but it took so many waves of pain and anguish to crash over me, so many tears shed, so many feelings felt, and all for what? A white man???
So now, I sit here, writing this instead of studying for my final exam, reflecting on the semester.
If I could meet with myself three months ago, I would tell her she’ll be just fine, the feeling will pass, but that for her to be okay she needs to feel the feelings she’s feeling. Denying or repressing emotions isn’t going to make them go away, it’ll only make them worse. To know happiness, you need to know the absence of it. Even the flowers need rain.
so basically,
You held on till May,
Darling, you’ll be okay.
This was beautifully written. I can relate to your sense of longing for someone who you try not to think about as much anymore in order to move on. I recently went through a similar experience so I do understand how it may feel to be ready to move on from them.
Thank you for your honest and gentle writing. I smiled when you mentioned progress and regress; I feel the same way! It creates a sense of shared reality. I’d like to share a piece of my own writing about my breakup experience with someone I was with for more than ten years and I am pretty sure this experience will fuel me to write more lol