I hear it’s good to write down your feelings about stuff. So here I am, six long months after our break-up, and crying as much as I did on Day One. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Apparently it takes half the amount of time you were with someone, to get over them. We were together for over a year, so shouldn’t I almost be over you by now? But I’m not, I’m really not. I don’t know if it’s because you’re the first person I told ‘I love you’ to, I don’t know if it’s because I hadn’t felt that way about anyone before, I don’t know if it’s because I feel like you don’t care at all, and probably never did.
No matter what the reason, I know that I haven’t moved on. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did in the beginning, but some days, it does still hurt. How could someone who said ‘love you longtime’ and ‘you’re stuck with me’ just give up on your relationship? How could you look online for flats together one day, and talk about your future dog names (Claude, Teddy and Winston), and then end things so suddenly? It doesn’t make sense. I know you were going through a hard time, I know he had lost someone so important in your life, and I tried to be there for you, I really did. I stayed with you every night, I worried that you weren’t eating, I watched Star Wars for you.
But it wasn’t enough. Because I got jealous. I got jealous that you were getting closer to another woman, and as much as I can apologize for that, I’m not a robot, and I have feelings. Instead of dumping me, I wish you had just tried to make me feel less insecure and assure me that you only had feelings for me. I took the break up extremely badly. I did everything an ex wasn’t supposed to do; I text you, I left you drunken voicemails, I emailed you, I wrote you letters, I Facebook mailed you, I added and deleted you as a Facebook friend multiple times, I was basically a complete psycho ex.
Shamefully, I still send you an occasional text that I know you’ll rarely reply to. I can’t help myself. The more you don’t respond to me, the angrier and more emotional I get. How can you just ignore someone you apparently were ‘in love’ with? I’m still haunted by all the little things we used to do; I think about us pulling each other’s towels off after we came out the shower, I think about playing with his ‘bum chin’, I think about you being a complete annoyance and licking my face, tickling me, shoving his finger in my ear. I think about nose kisses, and ‘queen kisses’ and how compatible we seemed in every way. I think about us high fiving each other after sex and that time you played ‘I just had sex’ on his phone afterwards.
I think about us making pancakes, and attempting to make a cheesecake one time, and rubbing each other’s ‘food babies’, and him singing along badly to ‘walking in Memphis’ in the car. I think about snuggling into each other at the cinema, and holding hands, and playing air hockey and the puck flying off the table. I think about us discussing poop, and how loooong you used to spend in the toilet. I think about how I used to hate taking my make up off in front of you, until one day, I just didn’t. I think about how comfortable I felt around you, how you quickly became my best friend, and someone who would always encourage me – in my uni work, in my placements, in my driving, someone who always believed I could do it. I had to put a deposit down for my Grad Ball next year, not having you as my plus one was something I wouldn’t have expected.
I really thought 2015 would be a great year for us. I thought we’d go on holiday, maybe move in together, we’d go to my graduation, and I really don’t want to do all of this without you, it won’t be the same. I hate that we aren’t even friends, or even close to being friends. I know that’s mostly my fault, because I’ve been a complete nightmare, but it’s so strange to think that the person who I used to be closest to, isn’t there anymore. The hardest part about this whole thing was the way things ended. When we broke up, you cried. You told me you still loved me, and you told me you’d regret it, and I wanted to believe that was true. I wanted to believe so badly that you’d turn up on my door one day, and say that you missed me, and you wanted to be with me. But that never happened.
I was experiencing so many emotions, and I couldn’t handle them, and I drove you away even further. I found it so hard to believe that you had moved on, didn’t love me anymore, and didn’t have much interest in speaking anymore. The hardest part is wondering if none of this had happened, would we still be together right now? Would we be celebrating our second Christmas? I honestly believe we would have been. If I could have any wish, it would be to go back six months, and do things so differently. If we had still broken up then I wish I had acted with a bit more self-respect. My New Year’s Resolution is to accept that you and I are over. That you don’t want to be with me or try again. To leave you alone, and let you get on with your life. And to try and get on with my own. Maybe I’ll find a love like that again, maybe not. Everything is unknown.