No one has to be the bad guy.
Well. . . Hello there.
Crappy title? I know.
It’s been a while.
I’ve been. . . Busy. Scratch that.
I have been trying to write something outside the threshold of love and relationships as a friend suggested. Honestly, that hasn’t been working too well. Maybe because I haven’t entirely put my mind to it.
But, since I can’t get over myself, I will give you a little scoop on my life. My love life to be precise.
I fell in love again.
After a year and a few extra months of abstinence, I opened my heart up after I met a beautiful, beautiful soul.
Now now, for the most part, he wasn’t the man of my dreams. I fell in love with the potential. Very beautiful potential but potential nonetheless. Did I struggle with that reality? Yes. Was I satisfied? Maybe. Was I happy? Yes. For the most part. Did I stay? Yes. But that’s not what I came to tell you.
I’m here to tell you we broke up. Yes. Two months later and we’ve gone our separate ways.
Oh, don’t worry. The shock will wear off. Or the pity. Whichever you feel at the moment.
Now, I write better when I feel pain so, I’m writing this letter/having this conversation with you hoping it helps.
We were. . . perfect. He has the most beautiful eyes and dentition I’ve come across in a while. His smile lights up the room. His aura not so much but his smile. . . it did things to me.
He was kind, respectful, and sweet. I was all of that and maybe more. My sense of respect might have gotten mixed up with my strong will but. . . I did my best this time.
We broke up still.
No. It wasn’t a fight. It was a deal breaker. I had a deal breaker. One I didn’t think I could wrap my head around or accommodate in the long run. It isn’t what most would consider a ‘bad thing’. In reality, it’s on a very neutral level. In my life, it’s on the acidic side of the pH balance. Or so I thought.
So, we split.
I blocked his number and social media accounts. Then I unblocked them. In the few hours I had him blocked, I was plagued by ‘What if’s?’. ‘What if he’s trying to reach out?’ , ‘What if you both overreacted?’ , ‘What if?’. . . I couldn’t torture myself that way. Not again. Not anymore. I opened the communication lines because it’s much easier to face the pain than run away from it. It’s easier to see what is than what could have been.
All those hours I tried to rationalize my pain. I tried to shift the blame. I blamed him. I watched all the relationship videos I could find that could somehow make him the bad guy.
Then I blamed myself. I felt unlovable. I told myself I sabotaged it. . . again. I felt difficult. I blamed myself for opening up. For wanting more. I blamed my past exes and daddy issues. I blamed my young mind.
Then I stopped.
. . . because, in truth, neither of us is the bad guy.
Not him. Not me.
Could we have handled things differently? Maybe. Maybe not. But I don’t have to blame anyone. There is no one to blame.
I’m not wrong for having a deal breaker. I wasn’t entirely wrong for falling in love despite it. I wasn’t wrong for wanting to stay in love. . . despite it.
He wasn’t wrong for being hurt. He wasn’t wrong for feeling. . . ‘managed’.
Neither of us were wrong for walking away. And for once, there isn’t a bad guy.
I’m choosing to see things differently. Move on differently. Heal differently.
It feels good to know that I don’t have to hate myself or anyone else. I don’t have to post unnecessary videos to prove that I am ridiculously strong. I am not ridiculously strong. I let my walls and defenses get pulled down and that’s ok. That’s how love should be.
There was never a guarantee it would last forever. In truth, there never is. You just keep loving till your paths no longer align. Whether in the case of death or unforeseen circumstances.
(. . . Get me a bottle of wine🥺)
I had a point in mind when I started writing this. That point has completely escaped my memory. But then, this is a conversation/letter, innit? It doesn’t necessarily need a point. Yeah?
I’m not a writer today. I’m just. . . Me.
Maybe someday I’ll come back to this post and smile at how much I’ve grown. But not today. Not tonight.
Tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep.