383 Days of Summer

I’m writing this entirely for myself.

Barely three hours ago, my boyfriend and I called it quits. I’m not ready to talk to any of my friends about this, but crying to myself isn’t helping at all. I’m typing it down, not caring if someone reads it or not, but only wanting it to go out. Kinda like a prayer.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see it coming. I saw it coming the day I said yes to him the second time.But honest to God I had placed all my bets on never having to see this day. Because I’m naive and I have hope. Because I was in love with the best man in the whole wide world. I’m just not good enough for him, we’re different.
His reasons were the same. We’ll both just keep hurting each other if we’re together. There are things about my past that he simply can NOT get over. He has tried, he’s been trying to turn over a new leaf for a year, but he knows it’s just not him. I understand that. You can’t force someone to swallow something that’s not their taste. 
Yeah I wouldn’t have done this to him, or anyone. That’s what he said, “we’re different. We have been trying to make it work, but it’s just unfair when I know it’s not happening and I’m just wasting your time.”

Oh God, there’s just too much of him to forget. I’ve known him for four years. And we’ve been in love for a quarter of that time. He has called me beautiful till the last minute. He has been the stronger one. He has made me laugh till my belly hurt. He has loved every inch of me, right down to the tiny unsightly hair that grows on my chin sometimes. He has treated me like a kid, like a woman, like a boy, like a lover, like a total princess. He has given me so much, he has become a habit. A habit I’ve latched on to for all that is vital for my well being.I’ve never been the talker. I prefer keeping things to myself. I’m the girl you’d tell things to. He changed that. Somehow or the other, he’s always managed to get inside my  head. And it’s always felt good, only with him. It’s so intimate, sharing all sorts of thoughts with someone.
There’s things I about me I never knew. I discovered the crazy possessive girlfriend I can be sometimes. I can be downright jealous. I can loathe people with insane ferocity. I can win over people. I feel beautiful even when I know I’m not. I have never wanted to write so much for someone. I have never been poetic. I have never been so insanely proud of someone. I have never felt so ‘at home’ with someone I’ve known for lesser time than I know my own sister. I had the privilege of falling in love with my best friend. 

And I don’t want to admit it, but at times it felt like he loved me more than I did him.

I told him a few days ago, when he told me he wasn’t feeling happy. “Maybe we’re meant to love each other, not to keep.”
He told me he loved me today. I believed it. If he tells me that when I’m 80, and we have our own families, I’ll still believe him.


He’s done me wrongs, he’s done things I couldn’t imagine doing to anyone. But I’ve forgiven and I’d taken him back. It took me while, but I wasn’t scared of loving him again. There were so many things holding me back when we patched up the second time. Leap of faith. Sometimes it works, and sometimes you just fall down and break.

Something does feel dead inside. I’m typing monotonously, tears streaming down my face occasionally. When I came back home today after seeing him, I tried so hard to be normal with my mom and my sister. My mom was saying something, and all I could think of was how lucky she was to have married the guy she fell in love with when she was 25. How lucky she is to have spent 22 years with him, how lucky she is to look forward to old age with him. So darn lucky. My lip quivered, and I think mom noticed. I scarpered from the room as fast as I could.
Since then I’ve been.. doing the usual, listening to songs and checking my Facebook feed. It’s mechanical, it comes easy. It leaves my mind free to wander about. 

I’ll miss him so fucking much. His scent! I know heaven smells like that. His crinkly eyed smile! Oh God, how longingly I stare at his candid photos where he’s in the middle of a laugh. His knobbly fingers and toes. His dense wiry hair. His oh-so slightly off left nostril. His beautiful small brown eyes. His sexy jawline hahaha. And how he’s just so perfectly skinny, you can wrap one arm cozily around him. And how he’s just so perfectly tall.There is SO much we’ve been through together. There are countless things we’ve said to each other. Some of them have stuck, some of them hurt, some of them I won’t forget till my dying day. He’s always called me a settler. Little does he know how much I’ve cherished his presence in my life, from the start. He doesn’t see himself the way I see him. I hope he finds someone just like himself. He deserves the best of everything. Sigh.

I can go on and on. But all that really matters to me is we happened. I know what love feels like. I know what it feels like to always place someone else’s happiness over yours. And I think he did the right thing. He was being a martyr the whole time, I’m glad he had the sense to stop. A heart like his… how can it be happy with a heart like mine?

It’s a start. At least now he can tell himself that it’s OK to let go. He doesn’t have much to do with me any more. He did make me promise I’ll stay friends with him, that is one thing he doesn’t want to lose. Poor baby, he cried on my lap. It’s heartbreaking to see a grown man breaking down like a china doll right in your lap.
Plus I’ve told him quite a lot of times how I miss being friends with him. So this would be a wish come true of sorts.. yeah.

Everyone knows how tough breakups can be. How much people miss each other. How tough it is to move on.But nobody tells us how to find peace in all that emotional turmoil. No matter what you say to yourself, your heart still has a gaping hole; you just learn to live around it. 
You still wish you’d bump into them somewhere, and run into each others arms and kiss and everything would be just like before. Sometimes you wish you didn’t know them at all. Sometimes you wish you can rip your brain out and smother its thoughts. Sometimes you wish you can call them up and just cry all night. Sometimes you wish you can dive into your dreams and live every moment in it, because it has them. Sometimes you wish you could turn back time.

It never happens.

All that happens is you tell yourself to get a grip. You stop crying. You stop reading their texts. You stop looking at pictures of them. You stop listening to songs that remind you of them. You start meeting other people. You start liking other people. You find love again. You write another story. You fall in love, you shatter in love. At least you know what it is to love. 
 
Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
 
But the heart is not a box that can be filled. It simply expands. The more you love, the more it grows. And when you look deeper, you find a niche that’s entirely theirs. 

Thank You, first love. 
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