It’s always shocking just how much the Universe seems to enjoy proving us wrong.
Even with the most mundane things, something can come along that seems completely benign and it shakes your confidence so badly, you’re suddenly looking around and questioning what color the sky is. We shout wrong statements like they’re fact, walk around thinking something totally inaccurate, claim we know better. It happens constantly. We’re all so sure of what we think.
And then, out of nowhere, you aren’t so sure. In fact, you’re completely wrong. You’re wrong about yourself, or more specifically, how you feel.
Just days before, you would have sworn how fine you were. He wasn’t weighing on your eyelids at night anymore. You couldn’t taste his tongue in every drink you sipped. You were moving forward. This was the part after the healing. This was the “I’m finally over it.”
Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t okay for a while. And you didn’t even pretend to be. You did the mopey-cry-into-buckets-of-ice-cream stage. You sat awake just hoping you’d hear that ding that was him taking back everything he said. You weren’t ashamed to admit how long you hoped things would fix themselves. Your heart broke a little whenever you saw tape or glue. Like maybe with the right tools, you could mend this.
And when you couldn’t keep staring at the phone, you did the #SingleLadies shit and let your grief morph into a showy display of just how okay you were. You put your Freakum Dress on and remembered how many beautiful men exist in this world. You kissed someone else. You pretended it felt the same. You thought it could feel the same.
And the process kept repeating. You cried. You laughed. You cried so hard, you started laughing at the absurdity of missing someone so much. You slipped and reached out, asking for answers you knew you weren’t going to get. You felt dirty and irrational, cringing at what heartache can do to a person.
But you did all of that. And you made it through. Sure, no one threw you a party with Congratulations! You Did It! balloons bopping around the room, but you did it. You found the stage where you finally weren’t faking it. You were okay. You were at peace.
And then, everything you thought was called into question. He’s with someone. And she isn’t you. Things don’t seem as clear anymore. Your heart doesn’t feel like it’s beating at the same rhythm it was moments before.
Maybe it was something as ridiculous as a tagged photo on Facebook, his arm around a pretty face you’ve never seen before. Or maybe someone just casually mentioned it, like it wouldn’t tragically shatter your spine right down the middle. It shouldn’t anyways, right? You’ve been fine. You’ve been okay.
I don’t believe that means you’re forever incomplete. That would be foolish and ridiculous. Some of us love so many times! And some of us only love once or twice. But regardless, when we care about someone enough to cast that big L word their way, losing them does something. It’s a scar. It might begin to fade with time, but look hard enough, it’s still there.
And there it is: your scar. He’s there with someone else. You knew this would happen, eventually. In the back of your mind, you even feared it. People move forward and it’s a natural progression, right? Of course, he’s going to meet someone who gives him the butterflies you used to give, right?
So why do you feel like everything is crumbling when two seconds ago, life seemed plausible? You could make it through. You could be happy again.
You’ll click through her social media, hating yourself a little as you do. You’ll do those unfair comparisons — the never good “why her? why not me?” question that will have your insides crawling back up your esophagus. Everything about this moment will have you questioning your own worth, your sanity, your everything.
It’s the sentence you hate to say out loud. It’s the thing you want to hide from, pull blankets over your head and act like nothing ever happened.
“Why wasn’t I enough? What does she have that I don’t?”
The truth is you have nothing to do with this new romantic development. And while you might compare yourself to the new flame, it’s not a reflection on you. She’s not the better you. The new and improved version. That’s bullshit. And thinking that way is going to hurt you over something so absolutely false.
Sometimes, things fall apart. Even when we love someone so deeply, we aren’t always meant to be with them forever. Right now, she’s that person. And you have your entire life to figure out who you are, what you want, where you can go. This moment is just a blip in the radar. A painful, heartbreaking blip.
But you’ve got to keep going. You’ve got to see what the world has in store for you. These moments, as hard as they seem now, will be scrapbook memories in a few years. I promise, there’s so much out there. It’s up to you to find out. Even if it hurts right now.