commit.

index

We broke up two weeks ago, if you, dear reader, is curious.

It happened in an instant. We had a fight. A pretty big one. Something happened to me and I went to him for comfort. But instead, he got mad. And I was emotionally drained.

What was wrong in getting emotional support from my own partner?

And then it started. He said something that I could never forget. Heck, I was traumatized after it that I convinced myself--no more of this. I won't take it anymore.

It piled up. I got mad for what he said and said some hurtful things. He burst out of course. I was in total disarray. I wasn't thinking clearly. If it wasn't for my friend, I could've been found in a nearby river.

He blamed me for our fight. Just when I was looking for emotional comfort and support, it just added up.

That night, I refused to shed tears on what happened. All of it. I'm not letting this bring me down.

The day came and I felt horrible I couldn't get up. Maybe it was my brain telling me that I was still drained after what happened. But I pushed myself to work. Moping around won't do any good to me. Besides, I'm gonna see my friends. They always bring the sun on my world.

I convinced myself, I am not letting myself be lost. I'm a fighter. These won't let me down.

I did the natural thing. Erase him from my world.

My friend was surprised how brave I was that day. But the truth is, I couldn't handle it well. I took multiple big steps so that I could escape. But I was shaking. Literally shaking. My friends figured it was the cold breeze from the airconditioner, but it was much more.

All the conversations, gone. All pictures, gone. All I have him left is a picture of us when we went to a picture place. I wanted to burn it, but I haven't had the chance. My friend said that it could be a sign of courage. That when I look at it again, I would have the guts to say that I moved on.

I wasn't my friend. We don't share the same perspective. It was better if there was no trace of him left in my life. Because these physical things don't matter much. After all, we were all never the same after a breakup.

But I couldn't bring myself to talk to him yet. I feel like if I opened our conversation, it would all come back. The messages are gone but my mind kept on going back on the little message clouds that was once there. And they will haunt me for a long time.

A day after, I ended things with him. It was better that he didn't fight for his "love" for me, if it was even existing in the first place. It was  easier living with the thought that he never loved me when we were together. No regrets on staying in a relationship that won't last.

(Of course, it will haunt me in the future.)

Was it weird that I didn't even cry when we had our separate ways? All I was thinking is that I was finally free from a toxic relationship. I could finally breathe freely.

Until now I still haven't cried for what happened. Maybe deep inside I was still holding it up. It just won't come out thaf easily. I thought I was the crybaby in the family. Apparently, no.

And then, the thoughts of him started to creep in.

About time.