The Breakup


Shock. My initial reaction was shock.

In theory it wasn’t as out of the blue as it seemed, but the reality was still so off key.  And okay, yeah, I was a depressed fuck who was hard to understand or ‘handle’ but I had been like that since my time on earth began. He knew that. But I guess, maybe he wasn’t aware of the full extent of just how difficult loving me can be. It’s not easy loving someone who suffers from depression, I do understand that. I just really didn’t expect a “delete everything” text, but thus is my life.

Welcome to the 21st century where you get dumped via text message, then blocked on everything. No explanation. Nothing.

I wasn’t even worth an explanation!

Like what on God’s once-was-green earth did “delete everything” mean? As if our entire relationship was virtual. Like yeah, cool… I deleted all our pictures and conversations and his name now just appeared as a formula of digits on my phone screen. But he was still him, he was still living and breathing, existing, he was still my world. So no. You can’t just ‘press delete’ on the memories engraved in my brain or the feelings I so strongly invested. What type of hyperreality parallel did he think this was?

Complete. And. Utter. Shock.


In that moment, my world began to disintegrate.

My weird but wonderful bipolar brain decided to shut down and just let the tears flow. It was beyond sadness. It was nothingness. Crumbling chunks of my heart melted into the red lava that leaked from my blade. There was no future without him, there was no me. Honestly, it felt like the end of the world. Yeah my family and friends loved me and my grades were good and I’m facially not-that-challenged and my health was somewhat in check and life wasn’t all that bad and… (you catch my drift). BUT IF HE DOESN’T LOVE ME, THEN NOTHING MATTERS. And in that moment, that was exactly it. That was my truth. I felt like I wouldn’t be able to cope. I’ve died before, I didn’t want to die again.

What next? What did I do do wrong? What’s wrong with me? Am I faulty? Am I too much? Is there someone else? Did he get bored of me? Can I fix this? Should I just be alone? Does he hate me? 

Self doubt attacked me like a plague and spread to the furthest, darkest, crevices of my mind. I hated myself again. Maybe I didn’t deserve him, maybe I don’t deserve anything nice. Then…


Suddenly, I felt numb.

A blanket of numbness cloaked my mind and I couldn’t feel. The relief of not being able to feel sad or upset anymore was so refreshing. I could begin to move on. However, after a few months, the sensation of being numb I found, was much overrated. Yes, you avoid the dreaded feelings of sadness and anger but you miss out on the splendid feelings of happiness and excitement.

Nothing excited me. Good news just became news. Nothing was good and nothing was bad. Everything was “meh,” that unbothered sound of lukewarm. Warm enough to bathe in, but not warm enough to thaw the film of ice that gloved my heart. Since my heart no longer beat for him, it beat for nothing.

You plan your future with someone, then they leave and suddenly you’re left without a future. You share and invest so much with someone, then they leave and suddenly you’re left without a part of you. I can’t explain how shit it feels. I felt like I had to reconstruct my identity again, find my muse. But I couldn’t. Days passed me by and I wasn’t living- I didn’t feel alive. I couldn’t feel alive. I couldn’t feel.

I needed to snap out of it quick.



How do you come out of nothingness? How do you make something out of nothing? This break up forced me to redirect my focus and I did. I began to focus on myself. I was not happy with feeling numb, I even began to miss feeling sad. In theory, it sounded easy and logical. Focus on me, better myself, get on with life. But actually finding that drive to push you in attaining such is a chore. So I kept holding it off.

Until I couldn’t hold it off any longer.

Self reflection became my main focus during my sleepless nights. Instead of triggering my anxiety by overthinking and reminiscing about my ex, I began to reflect. This was the key. During relationships you can become so comfortable and you’re so invested in getting to know and please your partner that you can forget yourself. You forget to know yourself. Well, I certainly did. I forgot I loved anime and cartoons, I forgot I used to listen to OFWGKTA, I forgot I used to style my hair a certain way.

So I moved on, I began dating myself, asking myself the simple questions.

“What do I like?” “Do I have any hobbies?” “What inspires me?” “Where do I see myself in 5 years?”

Instead of obsessing over someone else, I became more and more obsessed with myself. Learning to love myself. And it’s been HARD. Difficult. Challenging. I have struggled to love myself, I have battled with my own demons but I am overcoming all of these things. But the more I get to know myself, the more I learn about what works for me and what doesn’t. I know what I want. I certainly know what I DON’T want.



Everything was a huge a learning process. Everyday is a learning process. It never stops. I learned so much through this rough period in my life. I learned how to rebuild and move on. I learned how to be myself better. I learned that I should never put my happiness in the hands of another, they will crush it in the palm of their hand. I learned not to care so much, but to care enough to have some will in living. I can’t even detail everything I have learned and put into practice.

All I know is that I am the ‘happiest’ I have ever been in my life. The happiness I experienced in my relationship can not even compare to the ecstasy I feel now. I wish I could thank him for breaking up with me, it encouraged me to break up with the old me too. I was never in love. It was never love. I know that now.

“I thought I loved you, but now that I love myself. I understand that you couldn’t have loved me and, although we believed in all the ‘I love yous’ we exchanged, or every act of love we made. We couldn’t have meant it. Love isn’t supposed to hurt. It heals. Yet I spent endless days disgusted at myself for loving you so much. When I was just craving your touch or the comfort of your voice. I liked the thought of us. It wasn’t love, but neither was it just lust. More like a handful of emotions. Just a consuming passion, full of emotions… somewhere between lust & love.” – poem by myself, The Rose



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