You Weren’t The One Who Fucked Up Because I’m The One Who’s Still Not Moved On



4 years, 4 months, and still counting, that’s how long I’ve been in love with you.

2 years and 8 months was the span of us being together. I broke up with you because our relationship was becoming toxic. But after the break-up, we became the best of friends because we decided that we knew too much of each other to just become strangers all of a sudden. Then, a month after our break-up, you went ballistic over me because I went with one of your friends. You didn’t talk to me for 8 months.

During those 8 months, I was with one guy after another and we were talking shit about each other. But after 3 guys and a thousand hate words, we talked again. We became friends, again. This time it was different. We were getting close like how we were before and soon enough; we were back to normal. Not together but together kind of way. We were happy again, I was happy again. We love each other and it seemed like that was it for us. But I guess I had to be my idiot self and ruin it by going after someone again.

I thought choosing this guy would make me happy. I thought choosing him would solve all the complicated problems in my head. But, I guess I was wrong. I chose him even though I still know that I’m in love with you. I was blinded by thinking about what my family would’ve wanted and what would’ve made them happy that I forgot to think about myself too.

Now, 4 months have passed since we last talked and I know I’m still in love with you. I know you’re with someone better and yes, that’s what I wanted for you. I just can’t help but think about all the what if’s. What if I didn’t break up with you? What if I never went for other people? What if I stayed with you? What if I chose you over everything and everyone? Do you think we would be happy like how I imagined it?

I kept on convincing myself that it was your fault why we became this way, that it was you who ruined us, that I was mad at you for hurting me, that you were the one who gave up and left me.

I turned into this bitter person that I promised I wouldn’t let myself become. Then I convinced myself that I was happy without you because you weren’t worth it, that I was happy I ended it because you were ruining me.

But in reality, this is all my fault. I was the one who ruined us. I was the one who hurt you. I was the one who gave up and left. I was the one who wasn’t worth it. I was the one who was ruining you by dragging you down with me while you were helping me fix myself. I kept on convincing myself that you fucked it all up for us but, no. I did it, I fucked up.

I led myself to believe that I’m completely moved on because I have a “stable” relationship and a “happy” life. But really, you’re the one who has all these. I’ve accepted that I’m lonely and I ruined the one thing that could make me happy. Truth is, you weren’t the one who fucked up because I’m the one who’s still not moved on. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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