I Still Care

It’s hard not to care about someone you were in love with, even after the relationship ends. They’ll always be apart of your heart, whether you like it or not. So just because you’re not with them doesn’t mean you don’t care about their well-being. And it doesn’t mean that they don’t care about yours.

I’m not sure if I believe in soul mates. Sure, when it comes to friendships of course I do. But I’m not sure how that’s supposed to work with a significant other. Everyone has a different opinion on the meaning. And they also have a different opinion on ‘how many loves you’re allowed to have’. Are you allowed one great love, two, three? To quote Charlotte York, it’s two. To which, Carrie responded: well… Big and Aiden; I guess I’m done. But little did she know that Big was her number one. I had one. And it’s hard to question whether or not I’m done. Is he the one I’m supposed to be with? Even after all this turmoil and what we’ve been through? But… I haven’t experienced anyone else. What if someone comes along and makes what I had with Nick look like a joke? The same can happen for him. There could be this amazing girl. And he won’t even give himself the opportunity to notice her. 

Everyone thought we were perfect together, that we were going to get married. We were the couple that was great, the love that people wanted. I was fine with only ever having him. I didn’t care about experiencing other people, sex wise and relationship wise. I didn’t need anyone else: I had him. He was all that I wanted. And at the risk of sounding over dramatic (however, if anyone’s ever been heartbroken, you know it’s really that painful), I went through thee worst pain of my life. More painful than having my wisdom teeth taken out, or spraining my ankle; more painful than my failed suicide attempts. It was fucking awful. I cried multiple times a day. Sometimes for 2 minutes, sometimes for 2 hours. As I’ve said so many fucking times before, my bed became my only ally. I knew the fetal position quite well, and I’d have to alternate pillows because one would be literally too wet from all my crying. It sounds crazy now, and way too over dramatic. But I was in love with the kid. And at the end of the day, I did it to myself: I pushed him away inadvertently. And it just so happened that a lot of romantic movies and superhero movies came out, and every fucking thing reminded me of him. I hated it. My mom and best friends were amazing at hiding the gifts I had gotten him for our anniversary, or not bringing him up. If you’ve been heartbroken, you know that any little thing can set you off. I know how ridiculous I sound right now, but it’s so true. “okay, I’ll make us pancakes……wait……I used to make them for nick all the time. *starts crying*” it’s pathetic. After months and months of this, I got through it. I am a better, stronger, guarded person because of it. But now….he wants me back. And I understand that he’s heartbroken now like I was. But I don’t think he comprehends just how badly he hurt me. How awful I was. How defeated, distraught, broken I was. The kind of feelings when someone you want to spend your life with decides they don’t want to be with you anymore. It’s not like I broke up with him this time. He’s moving, it’s inconvenient, and I feel like it’ll take a lot of time. And lately I find myself questioning whether we belong together. We haven’t really experienced other people. And I used to not, but now I think it’s important. But what if when I decide I want him back, he’s happy in love? That’s so selfish. But then again, him and I both know that I can’t be with him again just because he wants to… I need to want to, too. And I can’t tell if it’s because I’m lonely, or I think that we could really be together again. Regardless of everything, I still care about his wellbeing. It’s hard not to. 


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