Some mornings you wake up and feel an unexplained hollow somewhere in that little muscle in your chest. You pretend you’re fine and dismiss it under the thought that it’s probably because of exhaustion from working too hard before the weekend, or drinking too much with your friends the night before, or maybe a strange ache from forcing yourself to run two miles yesterday. You come up with every excuse possible just to give a valid reason as to why you feel that way.
There’s no way you’re going to pin-point your sentiments to any emotional explanation, all because you’re a guy.
You’re not supposed to feel vulnerable about your broken strings or your loss of her, even if all you want to do is collapse, forget about your toughness, and just let yourself be a soft person.
You keep pushing yourself to appear as if breaking up with her never bothered you, even if, in all honesty, you’re so crushed and tormented on the inside. You don’t allow yourself to verbally express your remorse and grief, even if the first thing you really want to do in the middle of the night is dial her number and tell her how sorry you are and ask her for another chance.
You conceal your feelings, bury them deeper inside of you, and shut them down once they arise in the surface because you’re a man. And you make yourself believe that your male ego prevails over honesty.
So when she changes her profile picture with a new guy grinning by her side, you lose all your temper and wish it is still you.
So when you read over the messages you exchanged with her two months ago, and see how beautiful she is in the photographs she sent you, you automatically drown yourself in cans of beer.
So when your friends ask you with concern if you’re okay, you pull off that cocky lopsided grin and quickly lie.
So when you kiss a new girl and you close your eyes, you still imagine it’s her red sugary lips that used to brush against yours.
So when someone new tells you she loves you, you look down on your phone and reply you love her too.
It sucks to admit that maybe you’re still not over her. But what’s worse is the truth that maybe you can’t pull her back to you anymore.
Maybe if you told her how stellar she looked in that maxi dress and sunglasses she wore just for you, she wouldn’t feel insecure. Maybe if you volunteered to carry her bag when she felt tired from a long day at work, her smile wouldn’t falter. Maybe if you cared to listen to her fears that made her so scared, she would feel safe. Maybe if you bought her a dinner that she was craving all week, she would feel special. Maybe if you complemented every lovely thing she did to impress you, she wouldn’t get tired from loving you.
Maybe when you yelled at her when she was just trying to help you with your problems, she was hurt. Maybe when she was on the verge of tears on the bus home after an argument with you, she was in pain. Maybe when you ignored her when she told you how sad she was with your growing distance away from her, she was broken.
Maybe when she walked away, she wanted you to go after her.
But your ego ate you alive. You thought she was being overly emotional. You believed she was becoming way too soft. You assumed she’s just being a sentimental girl and that shall pass.
That’s when you’re wrong.
That’s why she gave up.
That’s what the reason for the void in your heart.
That’s where the memory of her in you lies.
So maybe if you did man up enough, you wouldn’t have lost her; she would still be your number one girl, and you wouldn’t have to get over her.