Nothing prepares you for a breakup, especially one you weren’t expecting. I find myself pointing fingers, nitpicking everything that went wrong, and worst of all, replaying our final moments together over and over again in my head. It’s not just our final moments because I live with every moment of us.
When you love someone, you become blinded by it. Their actions are no longer wrong because the good outweighs the bad. I have a list of everything bad, but within that bad, there were years of good.
When I close my eyes, I see us, sitting in the dim light of your apartment, laughing our asses off over something that wasn’t even funny. When I close my eyes, I am taken back to the road trip we went on when we first started dating. Neither of us checked our phones unless it was to change the music. We talked for the full eight-hour ride; my hands played with your hair, and your hand sat on my knee. In that moment, I felt like I could do this for the rest of my life.
When I close my eyes, I see the camping trip we went on. Just us. We were completely isolated from the rest of the world. Together we visited places that I never thought I’d get to go to. Together we shared moments that no one else would understand.
When I close my eyes, I see all of the times you promised me something. All the times you promised me we would work out. All of the times you promised you’d stand by me if I ever needed anything. All of the times you promised me all of your love. I hate myself for it.
I don’t understand how you could see every moment we've spent together and still choose to break your promises. You could barely recall what we had done last week, let alone recall an important moment we spent together or words you said that meant so much to me. I remember you telling me that you weren’t ever going to romanticise our relationship the way I had tried.
Maybe that's because these moments and promises were never actually yours, only mine.
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