I recently stepped out of a relationship that lasted for more than five years. Almost two years from that number got exhausted in trying to keep up with the hardships of a “Long Distance Relationship” – a damaged good produced by the hope industry.
Considering the fact that I’m 18, it’s clear that I got into a very serious relationship at a very young age. Not that I regret any of it. Not one bit.
I was the one who took the first step towards figuring out how to finally step out of this messy spiral of, what had devolved to, sturdy blame games and loss of commitment (this I really was unaware of till a lot later). And boy, was it messy.
I never could’ve imagined everything that followed. The way every wall that had carefully been constructed in our little fort of young love came tumbling down and the cheap cement got buried under several layers of aggression, hatred, regret, and bitterness. I dealt with it horribly. Individually, not so much; but in the whole situation that was affecting the two of us, I did a rather sucky job of handling it like a “mature adult”. Thing is, I was quite scared to begin with. I didn’t know half of why I was doing what I was doing. I just knew that I needed to do this, for the sake of both of us and that kept me moving. I kept avoiding conversations and pretty much crept into a rabbit hole of misery. But then again, there was no other way of doing it. You can’t “cordially” break up with someone. It’s always as difficult and painful. Not that I have any experience in breakups or anything lol.
Throughout our relationship I always thought of myself as the less-giving one, the one who detaches more easily, cares enough but not more than enough etc. etc. you get the drift.
I don’t know if that’s the product of the effect a boy’s words can have or just a result of me constantly lying to myself for some godforsaken reason; either way, that’s what I assumed of myself. Or maybe, that’s a thought I had ONCE or TWICE which got converted into a story I started telling myself to justify anything and everything the two of us did/went through. I never admitted it, of course, but I always thought of myself in that obnoxious light and somewhere inside that did trigger a bit of self-loathing. It became an identity of mine that I started using to make the world as well as myself believe that I was, somehow, more invincible than most people; which is a joke because, in my opinion, we’re all only as invincible as the things we buy; a kind of self-defence mechanism, maybe? Although this wasn’t true at all; it was just something I had created in my head.
Funny part is that I wasn’t even aware of all this until YESTERDAY when a friend pointed it out and that kind of put a lot of things into perspective.
Even though I was the one who broke up (regardless of the events that followed), I felt quite shitty. I was miserable (and probably still am) and barely understood all this pain oozing out of every breath I took. (Yes for all of you who’ve been dumped – people who break up are not all assholes) but I still continued to believe that I was less attached and that it was possibly easier for me. Clearly, this was only a way for me to shove my sadness in a carton and push it behind all that other unsorted junk just lying around at the back of my mind.
So when my friend pointed out that I have been terribly upset for quite some time and have truly been affected by this shipwreck to a great extent and that I stuck through a downhill train journey longer than a so-called “detached” person would, it was a revelation! I couldn’t begin to fathom the absurdity of my own thoughts. I clearly was always incredibly attached and an immensely giving partner in the relationship, I always felt exactly what a person in love would and just like the fate of millions of others out there, mine was going to be no different. I, too, was feeling my share of the pain and have always felt it. It’s just that my way of feeling it and most importantly, reacting was different as compared to him but that should not have been a reason enough to invalidate my own feelings.
It possibly also stemmed from an insecurity of getting hurt too easily or being taken for granted but, I’ve realised, the truth is that you’re going to get hurt anyway. If someone has to take you for granted, they will. There’s no way of preventing that. Being too cautious or just careful enough is no guarantee of what lies ahead or how someone else will treat you in the future; I learnt this the hard way. And I guess it’s something EVERYBODY learns the hard way. You can’t really imbibe this in anyone. Everyone needs to follow the path they create/meant for them.
But I do hope I can avoid these mistakes in the future.