Please Delete His Number
Sometimes there’s nothing harder than letting go of someone you love. Because at this moment, with that person still “around,” there’s still the possibility that something might change. Maybe he’ll come back soon. Maybe he’ll realize that he’s totally messed this whole thing up, that he seriously loves you the most and can’t possibly live without you for another second. So you keep holding on. And you keep waiting. And you still don’t get it. It still doesn’t make sense. And there’s no closure. The sting is so real.
Where is he right now, at this moment? What’s he doing? What’s he thinking? What’s he feeling?
And then it’s super late and you’re drunk again and you text him and he doesn’t answer (or he does answer with something stupid and vague) and now you find yourself so angry because you gave in, because you showed your vulnerability, because he’s being a dick, because he’s not the same person he was anymore, and now you’re all bothered and crying again, because he feels a million miles away and all you want is to have the old him back, to kiss him again one more time, to have everything go back exactly the way it was.
But it never will.
And holding onto something you cannot change is one of the most self-inflicting toxic measures. It’s torture. It isn’t healthy. And you’re only making it worse. Stop looking at his Instagram. Stop re-reading all the text messages. Stop listening to those songs that remind you of him. Stop looking at the pictures of you two together. It’s over. BLOCK HIM. And delete his number.
It might sound incredibly aggressive to do this, but know that you will never have closure if you keep these lines of communication open. Because you’re just going to keep waiting.
And waiting…
And waiting…
Why? For what? For nothing.
There comes a time in life when you must make the decision to fight for yourself and for your inner peace and rid yourself of all that’s toxic in your life. (And yes, waiting around for something that will not change is toxic.)
It will be hard–excruciatingly so. But know that you will survive. Without that temptation of following him online and texting him (even if you think you’re strong enough not to), you will then be able to fold inwards, instead of pouring yourself empty, and in time you will be able to reflect, learn, grow and move on. It will take time. It might take a lot of time. But that’s the process of mourning a breakup. And it must be done. So delete him. Delete him right now. Enough is enough. Say it. Say it out loud. And know this:
You will regret deleting his number at first. It’s expected.
You will cry. It’s ok. Let it out.
You will overthink your breakup. It wasn’t all your fault.
You will hurt so badly that you feel like you’ll never recover. But you will live.
You will miss him so much. You’re allowed. But know that the person you miss isn’t the person he is anymore.
You will feel lost in the world. But in time you will find yourself again.
You will dwell over what you could have done differently. But don’t. Learn from it.
You will wonder if he’s missing you. But don’t torture yourself like that. It won’t change anything.
You will think that you’ll never fall in love again. You’re wrong.
You will wonder if he’s dating someone new. Again, don’t torture yourself like that. It won’t change anything. (And she’ll never be you, anyway.)
You will ask yourself if deleting him was a mistake. It’s not (no matter how mature you think you are.)
You will feel like you’ll never be happy again. It’s not true. Give it time.
You will want to unblock him on social media and message him, (‘cause what if he’s trying to reach out to you?). Don’t do it. (He hasn’t deleted your number, keep in mind.)
You will miss feeling happy. You will be happy again.
You will resent how empty and numb you’ve become. It will not last. This is part of the process.
You think you’ll never find “the one” because this heartbreak has made you so hard. He’s out there, girl. Believe it.
And then…one day…
You will think of him. And you will wish him well in your heart without any animosity, without feeling lost or unhappy or in any pain. Because you fought for yourself. Because you fought for reason and closure and happiness. Because life might not always work out the way you want it to, but it always, always, always happens for a reason. Whatever you do, whatever you feel, I can promise you that. 
