Just let go, I would tell myself. And I would. For a few days I would concentrate on my job, my own thoughts, and anything that provided a good distraction. I think the longest I went without reaching out to him via text or online chat was seven days. Then it would all start over again. He would reply back and we would joke around, sending each other funny photos, and asking each other for advice. We would meet occasionally on the weekends, sharing a meal together or going on an excursion in the city.
We were both new, you see, to this city life. I think we both just yearned to be with someone we felt comfortable with every now and then, and to escape the loneliness and fear of a new place.
Why can’t we make it work? I’ll wait for you. I want you. I love you – it happened every time without fail. A great night would end up with a serious conversation and me in tears. It happened like clock work for two months.
I was the hopeless romantic that would hold on tightly to him thinking that braving a toxic relationship made me a strong person. I couldn’t for some reason accept that this person who I grew to love so much over the past year and a half didn’t want the same thing I did anymore; a commitment, a real relationship. That after living together and sharing so many memories, he didn’t want me anymore.
Until the New Year came and the cycle ran its course again, ending with me in tears well into the first few days of 2015.
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” – Maria Robinson
I knew I didn’t want to continue the cycle anymore. Two months of anxiety, stress, tears, and depression were just about enough for me. I wasn’t happy and I didn’t want to start a new year like that. People make resolutions to better themselves and improve. And I did just that. I decided that I needed to let go and become a happy person again on my own.
I put my big girl pants on and accepted the fact that our story had reached an end and that I no longer wanted to keep flipping through the pages. It’s easier said than done, and I still feel like I could relapse at any moment, but then I remember those long teary nights of me begging him to give us another try. Promising that I would become a different person for him.
I gather up all of my strength and keep moving forward after learning that being strong isn’t about how long you can hold on. It’s about knowing when to let go.
