Don’t cling to a mistake just because you’ve spent a lot of time making it.
I saw that quote a few months before I ended my three-year relationship last year. I’ve known him for seven years, we had been “involved” for five, and officially together for three. That meme bugged the hell out of me. I felt so uncomfortable and guilty because it resonated with me in regards to my then relationship. I had been back and forth about the idea for months and each time I tried, I couldn’t go through with it. I’d convince myself that it was just a rough patch and that we’d be back to normal soon. But that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t completely happy, he wasn’t completely happy, and neither one of us could muster up the courage to admit it. The relationship seemed to continue out of convenience and false hope. I never put our bad business out there (with the exception of the one time I did LMAO) so no one really knew, but few had guessed it. I used to cringe when people would comment on photos or posts of us with #goals or #relationshipgoals. Yes, we were definitely happy and in love. But it took so much to get to that point. He wasn’t always the greatest boyfriend and I wasn’t always the greatest girlfriend. Some of my best times were with him, but he was also the cause of some of my worst. Although the last couple of years of our relationship was pretty freaking awesome, the first couple were hell. I was so broken that I accepted treatment that I shouldn’t have in the name of having someone to love. I denied it to myself, and him at times, but I was often resentful of just how much I took from him. I even joked that I was the woman that came to make him a better man to his future wife. Funny that we’re here now.
This post stemmed from a letter I wrote to him, which I received no response to or acknowledgment of, and then I decided it would be a blog post. I’m pretty much an open-book and super transparent. Sometimes I even overshare. One thing I couldn’t bring myself to do was talk about my breakup publicly. Sure my close friends and family knew what happened, but I didn’t want to post about it. For the sake of my privacy and his. And for fear of me hurting him with my words. But we were VERY public with our love. And many people thought we’d be together forever, hell we thought we’d be together forever. LOL Naturally, when people found out we were no longer together, everybody had questions and assumptions. Naturally so.
One of the worst parts of dealing with the breakup has been other people’s thoughts and assumptions about me. It’s no secret that I am sensitive, and as much as I’m at a better place of “I don’t care what others think”, it hurts when people unnecessarily think the wrong things about me. I’ve heard so many things that people think are the reason we broke up. It’s actually funny when it comes from someone who neither of us considers a close friend or family member. (Don’t get me wrong, it’s still annoying when it comes from them too.) I heard that I dumped him because he took too long to graduate college, that he was holding me back, he didn’t have a steady job outside of music, wouldn’t travel with me, made less money than I did, had gained weight although I lost it, and so on and so forth. I was also told that I just “wanted to be single for a little while and be a ho then get back together.” Yes, that was said to me. He even thought that himself, which hurt when he admitted it (he’ll probably deny this but, it’s true).
Not that I owed anyone but him an explanation as to why I broke up with him, none of that shit was true. Our breakup was caused by me being honest with myself and him about things I couldn’t see myself dealing with for the rest of my life. With plans to move in together, naturally, the next step was marriage. I don’t care to go into details on what those things are, just know that I didn’t think I could deal with them forever. While other women would be excited about the thought of marrying their long-term boyfriend, it scared me.
Still, it took me awhile to actually do it. I felt like we had invested too much time. Had too many mutual friends, my family loved him, I loved him. He was there. He was there when I was depressed, suicidal, when I didn’t want to get up in the morning, when I didn’t want to eat or when I ate too much, when my grandmother was sick, when my grandmother died, when I didn’t take care of my physical health, when I had a minor outpatient procedure, every high high and low low of the past few years, he has been my number one support. That was hard to let go. He stayed when I made it hard to love me. When I was mad at the world but took it out on him. When I claimed to have forgiven him for past mistakes but brought them up when I was upset. When I pushed him away constantly. When my attitude and smart mouth got a little too slick. When I didn’t give him the love he wanted to receive. He was legit my best friend. Not just a cliche phrase said because we were in a relationship, it was true. We had planned our life together, planned to move in together, we were it for each other. But, it wasn’t enough.
It’s actually a funny (well, funny now) story about how I finally got the nerve to do it. My dad and step-mother were coming into town soon and we had plans to hang out with them and go to dinner. He knows how much of a Daddy’s girl I am and knew how important it was to talk to my dad about marrying me before proposing (even though he hated that tradition). I had had a dream that he has asked my dad for permission during the weekend he came to visit. During the dream, I kept finding ways to put off him proposing and I just wasn’t excited about it. I didn’t need Joseph to tell me what that dream meant. Not saying that is what he was going to do at the dinner, but I knew I had to end it.. just in case lol
Being honest, although we had broken up, we still regularly talked and hung out. We were even discussing whether or not we thought we’d ever get back together. We had a fake bet going about who would move on faster. I knew it would be him, he thought it would be me. Afterall, I was the one who initiated the breakup. Both of us had dated other people since breaking up, but neither of us had gotten serious with anyone. As predicted, I won. I just didn’t think it would be with someone I knew. No, this isn’t a best friend, or someone I spoke to often but it still hurt. The last conversation I had with this person was of her expressing how aspects of my life inspired her. I mentioned that to explain my first thought upon learning that they were dating, “well damn, did my relationship inspire you so much you wanted it?” I’m human and my petty side shows it’s face sometimes. Out of the billions of women in the world, and the many who sought after him DURING our relationship, why someone I know? I just couldn’t understand. Awhile ago he was feeling some kind of way because he thought that I was connecting with an associate of his (that wasn’t the case beeteedub). Hypocritical much? They knew they were wrong because of conversations they had and him lying to me about how serious things were. After a long conversation and me explaining my hurt, he decided this was something he wanted to pursue and I let him know to do it. But that meant losing my friendship and he was okay with that. So now, we’re here. He and others still believe my hurt is unfair, but I don’t care.
Last month was Homecoming and because it was a big one, SO many people were in attendance. I saw people I hadn’t seen since we graduated, and I also saw him. Our last conversation had been too fresh and I wasn’t quite ready to see him again. We didn’t speak. Even after breaking up I never thought we’d be at a point where we didn’t even acknowledge each other’s presence. So many people asked me how he was, they either didn’t know we had broken up or didn’t know we recently cut ties. I just said “he’s good, I guess” or “I’m not sure” and let that be it. I’m sure he got the same question just as much as I did. It’s so weird being in this space and although this week has been rough with feeling hurt, angry, and resentful, I feel freer the more I write.
This post was not meant to bash him. I wouldn’t do that and I wouldn’t want him to either. And it actually ended up being longer than I had planned. This is just an added step in my healing and to finally be done. I sent him a letter apologizing for any and everything I’ve ever done wrong in our relationship. But explaining that I had to cut ties because I didn’t want to give him another opportunity to hurt me. Intentionally or unintentionally. And although I’m hurt, I can’t bring myself to hate him. I wish him the best and I hope he’s eternally happy.
I do appreciate all the good that came from our relationship and friendship because there was plenty. I truly learned how to love another person besides family and friends, and how to let someone love me. He showed me that I truly am worthy of and capable of being loved by another person and that I deserve that and more. He helped me on my journey to loving myself. He loved my family, and they him, like his own. He made my grandmother happy many times during her illness just by checking in and sending well-wishes. We learned and grew together, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
Of course, there are two sides to every story, and I’m definitely not innocent, nor am I perfect. But this is my blog so it’s my side, you want to know his? Ask him. LOL I know we have A LOT of mutual friends, and honestly, I just wrote this to officially close this chapter of my life and to stop getting asked about it/him. My only request when sharing this with your friends who are curious is to share the link and not a screenshot, give me my viewer numbers LMAO.
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