I missed him.
That was a truth I couldn’t seem to escape. And sometimes, I fucking hate the truth. This one was getting annoying now, if I’m honest.
I could talk about it with someone if I wanted to, but it would be embarrassing. They already knew. I’d talked about him before, numerous times. What was there left to say?
Move on, I’d silently tell myself. Get over it. It was your choice to walk away.
But he never really gave me any other choice. And maybe that’s what I was struggling with.
It doesn’t matter whose choice it was when we’re struggling to get over someone. Whether we were the ones who decided to let it go because we knew it would never work out, or they walked away from us because they found somebody else, or they knew we just weren’t right for them—it’s all the same.
It still hurts like a bitch. And it’s perfectly human to feel the loss and miss them, even when we’re trying to move forward.
This is a universal experience. Every single one of us, at some point in our lives, has connected deeply with someone who’s made us feel things we’ve never felt before and changed us in ways we never thought were possible. So when they leave, what do we expect to feel?
Because that’s what many of us seem to be asking ourselves to do: just plow forward and feel nothing.
No sadness, no longing, and no feelings of nostalgia. No aching to hear their voice, or feel their touch, or share our day with them, or lay our heads on their shoulder, or roll around naked and sweaty and breathless like two wild animals, clawing at each other on the bed like we used to. Just move forward as if they didn’t exist at all.
This is just bullshit.
Faking it till we feel we’re making it, pretending we don’t feel anything at all, going about our lives and hiding it from the people closest to us—these are the ways we stay stuck in the loss, the heartache, and the pain of it all.
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