This Is Why I Broke Up With You

We do not think alike and it used to be one of the million reasons why I fell deeply in love with you. I held on to your words, embraced your thoughts, made love to your brain. I was the positive electric charge, you were the negative, and we were attracted to each other. It was not meant to be, it just is. This is how nature works. We were thrilled. We kept it that way. It ruined us. Constant fights were inevitable. Our thoughts and beliefs would claw on each other, fighting for dominance, no one would surrender; not until we were tired then we would move on. We would fake it and tell each other we understand the views of one another, but we know better. It was okay, until it dawned on me that this would not work out. Thinking differently and having different beliefs are fine, but loving someone with different principles in life is a struggle. I felt like I should change who I am to fit into your life. It felt like I should change roots, but that would kill me in the process.

They say you would know that a person is your soulmate if you feel at peace when that person is near. Your heart would beat at a constant rate and you would feel serene, not giddy, not too happy, unlike in the movies. I thought of it as a sign. I should have known better. The comfort I felt in your embrace and kisses is now long gone, the ghost of it trailing in my skin. I kept searching and searching, feeling, but it was not there anymore. I was holding on to the peace and security I only find in your arms because it is the only place that I call home, but now that nothing was left, I feel abandoned and lost. This hollow, painful feeling pushed me to push you away from me and it’s still tearing me apart.

I read books since I was little. No, not the fairy tales. I grew up in a household knowing that even though couples end up together, it does not mean they live happily ever after. I fell in love with fictional characters, imagining how perfect it would be if I found someone like them. I would like to be loved like how Mr Darcy loves Elizabeth Bennet, or how William Herondale and James Carstairs loves Tessa Gray. I had these expectations, and I know it is unfair for you. You are yourself. You show your love to me in your own ways. I even considered that perhaps reading too many literature corrupted my mind, leaving me confused whilst differentiating fiction from reality. I know these and yet I am not content. I came to the conclusion but maybe I was the wrong girl for you.

There is so much more to discover about me, and I tried to show you who I am, every inch, every corner of my being. I bare myself thinking that for someone who has a creative mind like yours, you would want puzzles and riddles and art. And so I tried to show you the art in me, bearing in mind that you might see me in a way I see you – beautiful and deep. It was not too long when I realized that you weren’t interested in depth and art. You knew that I am the type of person who could handle the world, but did you know that I cannot handle myself? Do you look at me the way I look at sunsets? You love everything about the surface, you even accepted and kissed the ugly parts, and yet you do not intend to go deeper. Were you scared of the darkness you might see in me? If you tried, you might have seen the stars, but you settled for the clouds. Rania Naim was correct, not every man is strong enough to handle a deep woman.

I have always shown you that I am a tough woman, a cry baby, yes, but I am independent enough to stand on my own. I am bold, not scared of what people might think of me. I am wise enough to make my own decisions. I do everything with intensity because that is how I show my passion. But you want a damsel in distress, not a strong woman that I am. You do not want someone bold because you are confined in conservatism, and my intensity intimidates you. You want someone a little less stubborn, a little less blunt. I’m sorry for being the opposite of what you want.

I aim to grow as a person little by little every day. I desire to fill the hollow parts of me with knowledge, experience, wisdom, and love. And so I have to take risks, to be bold, to challenge myself to try new things, and to leave my comfort zone; but you kept holding me back. I believe in the importance of my partner’s support of my passion in a relationship. I always tell you to “go for it” when you want to do something you are unsure of (but which I know you desperately want) because I know you have a low self- confidence, and you need someone to believe in you. And I wholeheartedly do believe in you. You are talented, passionate, hardworking and a great person. I want someone to believe in me the same way too. You were also always there to support me, but behind the support is your practicality. You don’t directly doubt me, but I know you doubt the circumstances I might be in and how I would handle those circumstances. I know you were concerned, but I wanted you trust in me. You did not, and it took a toll on my self- confidence. It came to the point that I adapted your practicality and started to doubt myself too. The I-want-to’s became I-want-to-but-what-if’s. The fire in me died, my adventurous soul turned to smoke, and I was hollow once again.

I was once a flirt, a person who does not care about who I hurt, and you pursued me despite all the precautions your friends told you. And you changed me. With you, I became a better person and learned how to love a person more than I love myself. We were together for almost four years, but despite showing you how serious I was in our relationship, you remained cautious. You always doubted my loyalty to you. You did not trust me at all. I would confront you about it, but you’d give me the same excuse. “I know you already changed a little, but I can’t be confident until we’re married.” It always felt like a punch in the face every time you tell me that. But instead of convincing you with words, I decided to convince you with actions. It still didn’t change how you look at me – a flirt. My best friends already told me it wasn’t healthy in a relationship, but I always told them that it’s okay, that we’ll eventually work this out, I will gain your trust and we’ll mature together. Two years passed, we were still an immature bunch. “It’s your fault for letting it end up this way,” they would say. “I know,” I just murmur to myself.

You are almost the perfect boyfriend a girl could only dream of having, but not for a depressed girl with anxiety. I don’t blame you for not being able to handle a lost, broken girl like me who always seems to be on edge. I don’t blame you because you have problems of your own, and also thinking about my problems would be too much for you. I feel like a burden, well I’m sure I AM a burden, and I don’t want to add more weight on your shoulders. I want to free you from the responsibility of being my emotional support. It is difficult for two broken people to mend each other, and it’s not our fault. I feel bad for not being able to give you the love you need, a love that could heal your tired soul. I frequently wondered how a broken soul could fix another. We tried though. At least we tried. And for the nth time, I knew I wasn’t the right girl for you.

You never failed to lend an ear when I need one, and it made me so happy. It pained me however, when I realized that you heard me, but you never got to listen. I once almost begged you to not take everything I say literally, but you hated connotations and metaphors and I have nothing left to do but to understand that. It didn’t stop me from talking to you though. I still reason out to you despite knowing that I’m wasting my time and energy talking. Then one day, I just gave up.

I missed the girl I used to be before I met you. The girl with the confident smile. The girl who’s comfortable with whatever she wears however revealing she can get. But now my mind was corrupted by you into thinking that I am lewd whenever I wear shorts, skirts, dresses, or sleeveless tops, that I shouldn’t wear them because there are many rapists out there, and that it’s my responsibility to protect myself from them. I would argue that you’re promoting rape culture instead, but you don’t give a damn about rape culture. You won’t understand my point and it frustrates me that a lot of people think like you and that’s what’s wrong with our society in general. You just disregard my opinion and tell me you’d leave me if I remain stubborn. I just let it go and obeyed you. You just want to protect me, I would remind myself. Now I’m not comfortable in my own skin. I also used to be thin, but then college happened and I gained a lot of weight. I always complained that I’m fat and you would laugh at me and tell me that you love me just the way I am, and you won’t have me any other way. I was happy and contented until it came to the point that I don’t feel comfortable with my body anymore, and I told you I plan on going to the gym. You said you don’t want me to be sexy because I’d attract many guys, and that there’s nothing wrong with being chubby. I let it go again. How stupid I was.

I know that relationships aren’t always sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. I knew that somehow, despite the storms and hurricanes, we could survive together. But in our case, we don’t “survive” together. We just forget whatever problem we had, whatever fight or argument we had, and pretend nothing happened. We knew it was wrong, but we were too lazy to talk about it more because we already knew that there won’t be any progress given that our thoughts just clash whenever we “talk”. And now, the consequence is this. We somehow lost each other along the way of finding ourselves.