When I lost him, I read incessantly.
I wanted to know how long it would take for the pain to stop. I wanted to know how to get over him. I wanted to know if it was possible to be happy again. I wanted to be logical in dealing with my heartbreak in the hopes of finding myself again.
Because in the aftermath of losing him, nothing made sense.
For so long, he had been my rationale when I was lost and confused. He was there for me when I was struggling and in the pit of despair. He helped me to resolve crisis and fight monsters. He had been my solace when I was lonely and scared. He filled my days with unimaginable joy and for once in my life, I felt loved.
I thought as long as I had him, everything else ceased to matter.
Then the heartbreak happened and I was completely unprepared. I was utterly lost and terrified. His leaving didn’t just take away my boyfriend. He took away my identity, the girl with the wonderful man who would always swoop in to save her. The one who would love her when she couldn’t.
He took away my ability to love wholeheartedly, and without reserve. He took away my happiness and the reasons to be happy.
To get over him, I did everything I could think of.
I deleted his phone number but he was still unshakable in my heart. I ran but I couldn’t outrun the thoughts of him—vivid and heartbreaking, still fresh in my mind. I filled my life with positive things but still; I could not forget the huge gap of hole he left in my life.
For a period of time, he was the most important person in my life. When I woke up in the morning, he was my first thought. When I had exciting news, he was the one I wanted to share it with. When I was down and sad, he was the one who made me smile again.
I may have seen the last of him but he was still the love I wanted to last.
Losing him was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. Try as I may to deny it and to move on from it, I could not. I was gripped in the relentless pain from missing him and what we had. I was heartbroken in the conviction that he was the best thing that had happened to me.
Without him, I was at a loss. My life that was once brimming brightly with so many hopes and dreams were darkened into nothingness. My heart that was pounding with so much vigor and passion for living became vacant and empty. The comfortable and safe life that I was so accustomed to slipped out of my grasp and I was thrust into this uncertain and scary world all by myself.
However, as time went by, I realized that life without him wasn’t as impossible as I thought. I realized that even if I could never stop loving him, there is life after heartbreak.
The pain that constantly haunted me day and night did eventually fade to a dull throb. The positive things that I tried to replace him with did allow me to become a better version of myself—healthier, calmer, and happier. The new love that I eventually met was not him. Nobody was. But he opened my heart and made me believe in love again. I continue living and I learned to fight my own battles. I become a better version of myself for myself.
To anyone else in the same situation, all the cliché advice about taking all the time in the world to heal and do all the things that would uplift you are true. You just need to have faith and hang in there.
There is indeed life after losing him. A better one is out there awaiting you.