Fuck It and Move On

Breaking up is hard to do. Very hard. Especially when third parties are involved and stuck in between. Oh, how pathetic must I look to the outside viewer? Shit – even to the inside viewer. I must look extremely pathetic. May I say my side of the story, though? Well, I don’t need anyone’s approval to do so, so I actually don’t give a flying fuck. I’ll be the very first one to say that my ex-boyfriend was a great boyfriend. As much as I so desperately want to say I fucking hate him and he was a piece of shit, he wasn’t. He had his faults, obviously we both did, but he was a great first ‘real relationship//first love’. But people change. Things change. Relationships change.
I must say that I am very interested in someone, however, it’s whatever to me right now. It’s whatever because I have no intentions nor desires to get into a relationship right now. So, in some cases, slow is very, very good. When people ask me if I’ve moved on . . . to answer that isn’t always so black and white. Well, then again, I guess it never is with me. I need to make things complicated and thoughtfully intricate. Anyway. To answer their question, I’m not sure. First loves are hard. First breakups are harder. So, that being said, of course I love him. I wish I didn’t . . . I am about a few days away from selling my soul to Satan in order to forget anything about him (pause ginger jokes for now). Am I still in love with him? I don’t think so. Seeing him and actually having to be in the same room as him was both harder than I anticipated and not as bad as I anticipated. The awkwardness was a bit uncomfortable. The saddest part of that experience wasn’t realizing that I still loved him or that I wanted him back. I love him, but too much has happened for me to want that back. The saddest part was remembering how we used to be, and then actually seeing what we are now. We are nothing. Which, if that’s the case, then so be it. I just wish guys wouldn’t lie and say that lame, cliché fucking bullshit about being friends. Don’t say shit you don’t mean. I was under the impression that he was serious when we both agreed that our relationship was too ‘special’ and ‘rare’ to be completely out of each other’s lives. But that happens. You meet your first love, you fall in love, you break up, it’s one of the hardest things you’ll have to ever go through, but then something great happens when you’re on your own. And you can’t rely on another person to mend your healing heart while you’re waiting for something great to happen. You need to do that shit by yourself. Thinking too much about the situation, as given any situation, makes it that much sadder. So for the most part I try not to think about it, and push it in the back of my mind. It works sometimes; other times it bites me in the ass. I’m just angry that I’m still upset. And I’m angry that I’m upset because it’s like why am I still upset? But I loved and cared for him so deeply. And he completely broke my heart. I don’t mean to sound overdramatic, but I will not hold back on my thoughts on this. The person I was in love with broke me, and here I am almost five months later, still writing about it. For what? To get my feelings out? What feelings? I know first hand how complicated of a human being I am. My mind and thought process are so warped that it collides with all rationality and sensibility that enters my life. Well, not all. That sounds a bit dramatic. But there was nothing more I wanted to be than an amazing girlfriend and to make him happy. Realizing things and putting them into perspective post love, I think that I put that before myself. And I made him being happy my source of happiness. Which, don’t get me wrong, is what relationships are about. But you can’t ever forget about yourself. And the anxiety I felt was 24/7. The worry of losing him. Of us breaking up. It still hurts like a fucking bitch but the anxiety is pretty nonexistent.
What’s funny – well, not so much funny, but I keep telling myself that I tried to be a great girlfriend. That I did a lot of things of certain extent. But something that I like about myself is that I don’t think that’ll ever change. When I date a guy, I will bake for him randomly as well as on special occasions. I’ll bake for his friend’s and family’s birthdays. I will be unapologetically in love with him, and won’t be afraid to say it. He won’t be afraid to say it either. There will be so much more.
Three years of my life wasn’t wasted with the wrong person. It wasn’t wasted at all. But I’ve learned a lot about myself and strengths and weaknesses. If there’s one thing I realized, you can’t be stuck in the past. That’s just as cliché as red roses, I know. But it’s so fucking true. What is the past going to do for you? You’re going to think about how happy you guys used to be? Think about all the cute shit you two did for each other? Think about all those intimate and special moments/times together? For what? You’re not going back there. Neither is he, that’s for fucks sure. Your friends and family need to keep it in the past, too. There are very few exceptions, but neither of you plan on really being friends. And yes, your family and best friends may have loved him, but then he hurt you. It doesn’t mean that they hate him, but never forget that they’re on your side. That’s something else I’ve learned. Everyone I knew that was close to me loved him, but he is no longer in my life. When I decide to bring someone new into my life, if I am happy, then they’ll be happy. Hopefully they’ll love him – but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There are no potential prospects like that. Well. Maybe. Who knows. Until then, I will continue to unapologetically write my feelings truthfully. To any one with a mending broken heart: you’re not alone. It also does get better. And the best thing for the both of you is to move on. Move forward.

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