Why.

When I was told to do this. I didn’t know what to write. As much of a good writer and expressionist on paper that I am, I found it hard to see how I would be able to write about him. That was how much he affected me. How much I felt for him. But I was willing to try, so here I am in a not so random, not so empty classroom trying to align my thoughts and pen(type) them down. And as I write this, it occurs to me how this piece wouldn’t unfold to just be about him but about the reasons for things that happened along the way and how I feel in general. I recently started (but didn’t finish) this book called Why We Broke Up and this may just be my own version of it. So to really understand why I did certain things,why I feel certain ways, we would have to start from the very beginning. Or at least the general beginning. Or not any beginning at all. We do make our own beginnings don’t we?

Growing up around my pre teen and early teen ages, I wasn’t approached by boys. Hearing stories from your friends on how this particular boy talked and flirted with them was a very uncommon thing when it came to me. Sometimes I didn’t care but other times I couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like, what was wrong with me. I wouldn’t call myself beautiful or pretty but I had my days but it didn’t seem to matter and then I grew a little bit older and had a semi ‘glow up’ but it was still the same old thing. Had crushes here and there, I don’t think I openly flirted with any one then, at least not to my knowledge but my life was boring romantically to say the least. Then SS2 came, that year I felt free. I wasn’t as stable emotionally as I wanted to yet and I literally wasn’t making effort to be but I was zen. As I  mentioned earlier, I didn’t think boys paid attention to me. Unlike my friends that had seniors talking to them and whatnot. I attributed it to me not having a phone any more and I became unbothered as time went on.  But things changed I guess. I didn’t notice but things changed I guess. I didn’t change but things changed I guess. And then after the first change came the second change and I started to play guessing games cause I wasn’t a mind reader. One wouldn’t know the intentions of people until they showed it clearly. Living in anxiety and unsureness because you didn’t want to believe what is showing and you start to go downhill. On a downward spiral into something you’ve never encountered before, something you have no experience handling. I was a cry baby. Got upset at the slightest inconvenience, but depression was a different ball game entirely. It told you to stop. Stop functioning. Stop living. Just stop. Stop and pay attention to me it cried. Stop and feed me it cried. Stop and pamper and nurture me it cried. And you would do just that. Because you would do anything for depression. The same way  you would do anything for love. Or what you thought love was. Cause in that love, you wouldn’t open your eyes to see the the toxicity until you were drowning in it as it peeled away your layers and stripped you of your joy and peace until you were a shadow of yourself. A skeleton with it’s skin barely hanging on. That love will drag you all in the name of fighting for it. And when you finally give up the fight, it was because you didn’t have any fight in you left.

SS3 was calm. I was much better than I was the last year and I was sure it was going to last. It did last I guess. That was to be one of the happiest points of my life. I wanted to breeze in and breeze out. No pressure. But this is the part were I start to cry as I write. This is were you come in I guess. We were friends. We started of as friends. I was around you and your circle enough to know the type of girls you liked. I wasn’t one of them. I was imperfect in every style imperfection came in. And I still don’t know if you liked perfect. But you chose me and for sometime we were what I would refer to as friends with perks (of course you received the perks of being my friend) and I don’t know if I ever told you this but anytime I thought about us during our time together, I would always say our song was Beggie Beggie by Ayra Starr and Ckay. I don’t know if you’ll understand. I’ve always loved music and if I sit down and think, I probably would be able to find a song for every situation.

Then things changed, we got closer I guess, I don’t know, we found each other, or rather you found me. And for a minute in all this I was heartbroken and as I type this I just remembered that I didn’t tick the column in the bucket list template for heartbreak. This counts as heartbreak right? Being deceived and lied to by the person you liked that much. You have every right to feel heartbroken right? It doesn’t matter if I don’t. I just did. But everything fell into place at the end. We fixed everything, yes? No.

Why We Broke Up: Us

I don’t know which of us fell in love first. It really doesn’t matter. You know when I said that was the part were I cry as I write? This is it actually. The hall is almost empty so nobody watches or cares as I dry my tears with the back of my palms. So it really doesn’t matter which of us fell in love first does it? It’s all over now. But love creeped in slowly, not suddenly. It reminded me of depression. It’s how they were so different yet so the same. How you could feel both at once. How I felt now. Throw hatred into the mix.

I loved you. I swear to God I loved you more than you could ever imagine. I loved you more than I showed. And I wanted to, I really did. I just didn’t want to be a work in progress for you. You deserved better. You deserve better. I wouldn’t be able to tell you all these but I could write them. And you said you were okay with me not being expressive enough but I don’t think you were.

People are not good enough for people and I was one of them. I admit my self esteem affected us a lot so that’s why I did it. I wasn’t going to watch you watch me get up and fall down and get up again because of my problems and my choices and things I was too ashamed to tell you. Things I didn’t think were worth you bothering about but were a whole lot for me to bother about and beat myself over.

Then there were the girls. The girls I knew were clearly better than me. The girls you knew were clearly better than me. The girls were if we stand in a room together, all my insecurities will suddenly be amplified. Those girls. I wasn’t one of them. And you could get anyone of them you wanted, but you were with me. I wasn’t going to stand in your way. And I would admit I was a bit selfish overall. I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t want to be there when you developed feelings for someone else and I would have to accept that fact. I didn’t want you to think that I was holding you back from being with someone else if the time came. The longer we would have been in a relationship the harder it would have been for us to both let go, no matter the circumstances. I would admit I was selfish. I was protecting my heart. Once bitten, cause the first one hurt a lot.

You made me happy. Made me become a better version of myself, made me want to become a more better version of myself, for you. Never saw myself in that position but life happened. One of the happiest periods of my life was with you. But life happened. And  you were too caring, too loving, too selfless, too... And I couldn’t give you that. At least not then. And I wasn’t going to allow you wait and miss out on every thing you could have had with someone more deserving to get myself together. I truly am sorry.

And I don’t know why it feels this way but it feels like I hate you, like there’s a tiny part of me that doesn’t mind the hatred that bubbles up in me when I think of the fact you left me hanging the one time I really needed you to tell me what you really wanted. And you may have had your reasons but I still want to hate you. I think this is me trying to let go in every possible way.

And now it seems like you’ve moved on now, I just want to believe it’s me projecting my fears. I don’t even know why I should fear. I’m happy you may have found someone, you deserve happiness. I just hoped we could have worked things out better, that we didn’t both run away from confrontation and everything because we didn’t know what to say or we weren’t ready to say what we wanted to say but whatever it is, I hope you’re happy.

So yes this is it. This my unedited, un processed, mis punctuated and un whatever you could think of. With its random switch of POVs and pronouns, it is me. And as I conclude this,it slowly becomes clearer to me that this was a complete waste of time. Nothing has still changed. The ache I feel hasn’t moved an inch, I still feel it. I still remember it and I do not know what I was expecting when I started this. The love still outweighs the hate but I still  need some relief. I did not want to feel anymore but I ended up feeling more. Filled me and the emotions are overflowing out the door. I’m rhyming now but I wished my heart wouldn’t mind rhyming with my head for once.

November has a way of reminding us of things. Reminding us that the time to correct all our mistakes is almost at an end. Reminding us on how we felt last year by this time. Reminding us that pain isn’t even confined to a year anymore so we could go on feeling it forever if it willed.

But I must say that pain does have a way of amplifying my writing skills. Purr.