I couldn’t be stuck in this any longer. Things never changed, yet I kept thinking they would. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. Our history proved that it was insane to keep holding on. We were destined to live the same rise and fall, over and over again.
I’ve heard that love isn’t always enough to keep two people together. I was starting to realize how true this was. Love had a way of poisoning our thoughts, and we could no longer make sense of this. Once the toxic nature of this had set in, there was no going back to the good times. We would always end up spewing venom with our words. Hating each other becomes synonymous for loving, and somehow we accepted this as our life.
The good moments started to come few and far in between, while the bad days started to seem more prevalent. I tried; I really did try to change hoping that would fix things. But falling back into old patterns came easy. I’m sorry I couldn’t find a way to resolve our problems, but it was starting to look impossible.
Love meant putting your pride aside, something we both seem to have trouble doing. There were many times we fought just because we both wanted to be right. Neither of us would give an inch, and those inches grew into miles. History created a canyon so big between us, all we could do was hope something, anything, could make it across. But every echo turned into a fight, and nothing sounded right.
I don’t even remember what the last fight was about, but I don’t think that really matters. What mattered was how I felt after it was over; like my whole life shatter in a single moment. All the hopes, dreams, and the plans we made were gone in one second.
You said it first, that maybe it was best we took a break. We both knew what a break meant; it was a nice way of saying it’s over. I remember feeling the tears well up in my eyes, and being so thankful you had the courage to say it first. There was no way I could have.
It didn’t end because we stopped loving each other, but rather in spite of it. I thought, in time, we would have grown together, but we had just been growing apart. Staying together any longer would have been for comfort, and truly not healthy. Despite knowing this and despite agreeing to the split I still missed you in everything that I did.
The first wave of missing you hit when I was getting ready for bed that night. As I climbed beneath the covers I realized I wouldn’t wake up feeling cold, because you had tugged them all to your side. I smiled to myself, thinking “This won’t be that hard.” That night I was the coldest I had ever been.
You weren’t there to kiss goodnight. Your arms didn’t hold me as I drifted off to sleep. It was the first time in years that I was alone in my bed. Alone was something I hadn’t been since I met you.
To be continued…