It’s a regular Tuesday night. I’m alone, in a pretty good mood. Just to give you an idea: blasting Father John Misty, sippin’ some red wine, and scrolling through Thought Catalog.
Have you ever been enjoying a moment just to have it ruined by a thought? Everyday I read online how people cheat on their significant other, or how people break up because one person wasn’t feeling it anymore. I’ve read hundreds of stories trying to find one that relates to mine a little bit, because when you’re feeling alone you’ll grab onto anything that feels familiar.
My boyfriend and I didn’t break up because he cheated. We didn’t break up because we fell out of love. We didn’t break up because we didn’t want to be together anymore.
We broke up because it was time to move on. We met in a foreign country where we were both living (and I still am living)- and started dating. It was close to a year when we broke up. We experienced so many things together; since we were living in a new place it was easy and fun to go on constant adventures. He opened my eyes to so many things. He inspired me to be the best version of myself, even after he left. He taught me how to love. How to love him.
Before him, I had never been in a long, committed relationship. He took the initiative, he was the brave one. Over the duration of our time together, he taught me how to be brave, too. It wasn’t easy or fast for me. I’m generally a closed off person, with lots of walls. He took the time to show me what a real relationship was, he was patient and kind, and he waited. Sometimes we would sit in silence for what felt like an eternity while I mustered the courage to even speak. I’m that bad at feelings. He never rushed me, simply waited. We had minor disagreements, maybe twice. Never a real fight.
We agreed from the beginning, since we both knew he would leave in coming months, that we would spend our time having fun and experiencing things together, instead of worrying about the future. He made this so easy to do. He made it so easy to trust him, even though I knew what was coming at the end. We lived an amazing couple of months together; imagine me hanging onto him for dear life on the back of his motorcycle throughout the crazy foreign city and country. We had adventures, we loved each other. I don’t think either of us knew it was going to happen, or expected it, but by the end neither of us could really deny it.
I knew he wanted to continue traveling throughout the continent, and I was still living in the country for my job. We both knew long distance wasn’t for us; it was never an option, even at the end. I couldn’t ask him to stay with me, that felt so selfish. I couldn’t go with him; I knew he had a plan and it was more of a solo adventure. I never felt angry or disappointed that he never asked me to go with him. I understand the beauty of being alone more than so many. I also don’t regret not asking him to stay.
We had a mutual breakup. There were no future promises, like “See you soon!” or “Let’s meet in that country in 6 months!” because we are both realistic. We knew we might not run into each other for years to come, or maybe ever. I am so awful with goodbyes, so a week leading up to it, I was constantly breaking into tears. It’s so hard to let someone you love go, someone you spent so much of your time with, your person. As heartbreaking as it was at the time, we had a clean break and parted on really good terms, with love in our hearts and happy memories to hold onto.
Sometimes when I’m sitting alone in my room I get hopeful he’ll knock on the door, or even just text me from wherever he is. I still feel really sad sometimes, especially if I let myself dwell on the memories. Generally, I try not to think on it too much, seeing as there’s nothing I can do anyways. We can’t get back together, he can’t come back to the country.
Thinking back though, I’m mostly happy. Happy the first person I ever loved was such a good one. Someone who loved me back, treated me well, and showed me so many things about life, relationships, and adventure. I’m happy it’s someone I can still catch up with, without it being weird, without expectations.
Sometimes even when two people love each other, it doesn’t work out. Sometimes, even when two people love each other, it might be more about the experience and time together, instead of making plans to stay together forever.
So not every breakup is from cheating, or falling out of love. Sometimes two people are in love, and it’s just time to go separate ways.
Having this love has made me grateful, and I hope some can relate and know there’s a more positive side to breaking up.