It’s a classic story, really. A guy was amazing, loving, nice, supportive for a long time until he wasn’t. When that snap happens, it’s like a bold stain on a white shirt. Your image of him is tainted. The first accessible memory of him in your brain is no longer the way he talked you through your panic attack but of the way he said “I just need space right now.” Or the way he answered “Probably not,” when asked if your relationship would survive.
It never actually makes sense. It’s not logical. And that’s why it hurts like hell. Because you realize you’re the same girl afterwards.
He loved and rejected the same flaws, vulnerabilities, aspirations, experiences, eyes, heart. How does that ever make logical sense?
So now, you’re still you. You still leave your clothes messy, in heaps on the floor. You still have obsessive thoughts. You’re still the girl at the party that makes everyone keel over laughing. You still have managed to hold onto that essential female confidence and power. You look the same in the mirror: banana peel hair, blue-veined wrists, summer smile. Yet, something isn’t the same.
And him? You can spend hours wondering what it was he really wanted. Why it was that you weren’t enough. When he will realize he made a mistake. How something so solid seeming managed to fall apart for him. Where he was headed. But it doesn’t matter.
He is only important in the sense that he taught you something.
You are able to survive a broken heart! You have amazing friends who will be there for you anytime the swelling of your emotions comes back. You desire to know yourself. You will never again let a boy define you. You still want to be you and that’s amazing.
But that doesn’t make it okay that someone as special as you has been irreparably changed. That you will now have a hard time believing in love is not just an individual, but a collective tragedy. Heartbreak makes us cold. It makes us unable to taste the sweet notes in a cup of coffee. It makes us snap at the people next to us waiting in the long-line at the post office. It makes us selfish. And I never wanted that to happen for you.