We broke up, and I’m totally okay with it.
It’s not that there was anything wrong with him or me – there was something wrong with our relationship. There was no love left.
I haven’t loved him since our first ‘break’ – nine months before it was over for good. It took me five months after that to realise, and four months after that to finally break it off for good.
Is that cruel? Yep. I spent nine months of a 21-month relationship not loving my partner. How could anyone justify that as not cruel? I sure as hell can’t.
In the end, I was selfish. It was almost as if we had been broken up for months before it was officially over. I wasn’t present in the relationship, I was too busy focusing on bettering myself and changing my life and who I was.
But if I was being selfish and helping myself, was it really that cruel? Yes and no.
Yes, because I could have ended things, let him be free, let him move on from such an unhappy relationship.
No, because I felt unsure and indecisive, and couldn’t stop asking myself questions. Would I miss him? Would I regret my decision? Could I start loving him again? Do I actually not love him or am I just convincing myself I don’t? Can I be alone? I couldn’t be sure of any of it.
I could be called heartless – little things he did started to annoy me, I avoided spending time with him, I didn’t reply to his messages or answer the phone, I began to wonder if it would be better to be with someone else and made up excuses for him to leave my house so that I could watch Netflix. I told all of my friends how I felt about him before I told him. I stayed so long in an expired relationship that I ended up despising it.
It sounds like I was just plain old horrible towards him. In reality, I was struggling way more than I was letting on. I cried myself to sleep so many nights, not because I was sad or felt sorry for myself, but because I knew I was hurting him and I didn’t know how to stop without hurting myself. I so badly wanted to love him like I used to, and want to be with him and have a perfect and happy relationship, I was almost convinced it would somehow all fall into place – I just couldn’t bring myself to accept it was never going to happen.
I look back now though and realise that of all the things he gave me, the kind of love I yearned for wasn’t one of them. Maybe if I’d have learnt to accept that and adapted my own way of loving to suit his, we would still be together. But I didn’t, and we’re not.
The end of the relationship left me feeling like I was claustrophobic. I was stuck in a box I couldn’t get out of and I kept getting so worked up and anxious I couldn’t calm myself down enough to realise there was a lever right in front of me. I was freaking out about the relationship and questioning absolutely everything for so long that I didn’t take five minutes to truly think about what I should and needed to do. Eventually, I did. I pulled the lever, broke up with him, and finally got out of the box and the relationship.