You’re blinded by the momentary happiness. The way he makes you feel when you’re at the highest of highs is that much worse when he makes you feel the lowest of lows. It’s a constant up and down, but the peak of the up is worth it.
You feel like you’re drifting into the unknown because everyday is different and it scares you, but not enough to leave. So you let him leave first, and not willingly, but reluctantly. You feel him leave and you feel a part of yourself leave with him. So you’re left alone with what remains.
And you stay right where he left you, and you think. You think a lot and you think hard. First, you think about the future that he mentioned. Then you think about how it will never happen. And then you start to think about the good times, and it hurts because you miss them. Not the person, just the times. And when you’re finally done sulking in your sorrows, your thinking becomes questioning. And then your questioning turns into doubt, and you begin to realize he’s not right for you, that you’re not right for each other.
And it doesn’t feel like some grand epiphany because the realization is slow and gradual, not sudden.
And at first you don’t believe it, or at least you don’t accept it, the fact that someone you spent so much time and energy with, who you thought was perfect for you in every way, wasn’t. But that time and energy wasn’t wasted. Now, instead, it’s just memories. And no one likes to admit that they were wrong about anything, let alone a person, but when you do, you start to understand that this feeling might’ve been there from the beginning and the ending was just what made it come to life.