1 year and 8 months. What does that mean now that it’s all over? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
It felt like it was washed away in one night, but frankly it was a long time coming. The beginning when the butterflies, the nerves and excitement still existed, I felt like I was in a fairytale. As time went on, it all just withered away. I could never get him to care the way I wanted. I continued to make excuses to stay. “Oh, maybe things will change. Times are tough right now for him.” I compromised and I continued to settle for unhappiness, but I didn’t realize it then. I fooled myself into believing that I was happy. As time went on, the more we disagreed on what we wanted from life and how I wanted to be treated, brought the worst of me. Jealousy. Anger. Resentment. But I ignored my unhappiness. I kept holding onto our past, our love story. My feelings were never valid in his eyes. In his eyes, I was dramatic and expected too much. All I ever heard were excuses. “I’ve had a long day at work. I’m tired. I have to wake up early for work. I’m trying but it isn’t good enough for you.” Honestly, if that was truly your best to make me feel like you “loved me” then I wouldn’t be upset. I never knew wanting actions of love to go along with the statement, “I love you” was expecting too much. For the longest time, I believed that I was expecting too much. When I was the instigator of arguments (which was most of the time) because he could never make definite plans with me to save his life, or because I realized that we are on different levels on each other’s priority lists (quite honestly, I don’t think I was ever on it), I would quickly apologize out of fear even if I felt like I had nothing to apologize for. I didn’t want to lose him. I still am unclear on whether or not I was in love with him or the idea of him. Probably the latter. Why did I stay for so long? Sometimes I told myself that this was it for me. This is the best love out there for me. I didn’t think I deserved more than what I was receiving. Right? I believed that there was a reason why he couldn’t give me more. Something had to make him believe that I didn’t deserve more. Wrong. It took me 1 year and 8 months and someone else’s determination to leave the relationship to make me realize that I DO deserve more.
Sadly, the breakup is fresh. He actually was the one that ended everything. He told me he knew he could never give me what I wanted and he could never make me happy. It was if he was he meant he was willing to give up his own happiness of being with me for my own. No one is that selfless. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but it’s true. I know there has to be another reason. I know I was not the perfect girlfriend.
A week and a half later, I feel as if the pain and sadness will never disappear. I can’t help but to forecast the day when he moves on and finds a girl who will make him happier than I ever could. It’s heartbreaking. How does anyone move on from your first real love? There were so many happy memories that now are outnumbered by nights of rolling tears of sadness. It’s funny that in hindsight, it’s all 20/20. I hope he finds what he is looking for in life.