Last year, we took a “break.”
This year, I let go of my boyfriend of three years, and he let go of me.
People say it all the time: let go of toxic people in your life. It’s easier said than done, but sometimes it’s necessary in order for us to get the most out of life. I’ve recently had friends break up with their boyfriends and I myself have recently experienced cutting people out (or not making the cut either…) for my own wellness (and sanity). It hasn’t been easy, even when people “deserve” it. I first experienced the pain of slow loss when my friends started moving away in sixth grade. They were some of the best friends I have ever had. When I think of them, memories of us laughing and looking out for each other come to mind. I remember playing on the playground together all through grade school, defending each other from bullies (physical and verbal attacks), leaning on each other when unexpected tragedies occurred and growing through the awkward world of school-aged boys and girls experiencing pre-pubescent inconveniences. Things were so bright then. But then, as fifth grade drew to a close, two of the four boys in our group of seven were moving with their families to new cities and opportunities. It was the end of an era. After sixth grade, a third boy left, drama had ensued and I had lost my best friend over him, and so I was down to one close friend in a matter of one year (middle school, amiright?). By the time I reached college, I was no stranger to losing friends. I never dated in high school, and so that heartache came later, but on-and-off again relationships with my girlfriends and their boyfriends weren’t uncommon. I always felt that maybe there was something wrong with me— not because people kept leaving, but because I eventually stopped caring. I felt that everyone else was dramatic and emotional, but perhaps I was just uncaring and a bad friend. I’ve always been flaky, but hey, that’s social anxiety for you.
High school graduation, and then college. Oh yesss, a new environment for me to wreak coldhearted havoc in. I am in graduate school now, and this time next year, I hope I am settled into my new career job somewhere. I am no longer the same girl I was in high school – sort of indifferent to others’ feelings and desires, especially when it comes to me. I do what I want. That’s always been my motto. But…the past six years of higher education have taught me a lot about people and how to care for them. Caring for others and listening to their hopes and dreams and perspectives is important. Not only because it is the nicer thing to do, but also you can truly learn a lot from listening to others and gain a new perspective yourself. This is called learning and growing, and it’s the only way things will progress and change for the better, right?
I dated someone seriously for the first time when I was in my sophomore year of university at SFA. He was the first person to show me the blessings and hardships of a relationship. We went through so much together, and we got to travel to some really beautiful places in those last months. And then, without warning, all hopes and dreams with this person were dashed. Last fall and winter was the hardest time of my life to date. I don’t know what would’ve happened had Goku, my puppy, hadn’t been there. He helped me every time anxiety and depression broke me down, and I felt worthless, and so much pain. If it wasn’t for him, my family and friends, I would be lost to the void. Slowly, daily, I let the pain leave my body and learned to cope with the loss. Yes, the loss. Through love, my family sped up the healing process and helped me get back on my feet when the spring semester started. I still had to keep going— for myself and for Goku. He motivated me to keep working every day so that he could have food and fun toys because I wanted to take care of my “baby” and be a good provider.
At first, our mutual friends were still a part of my life, but he had cut all of us out of his. I enjoyed hanging out with them when I could, but most of the time, it was just too difficult to get up and go anywhere. And eventually, they all disappeared, too. They still gather together, I say I miss them, they say the same, but nothing ever changes. The invitations stopped months ago. Nothing ever changes. They’re together, in the same college town we’ve always been in, but it’s as if an ocean lie between us. I am just not worth crossing it.
I’m thankful for the few, the proud, my friends (sorry Army Corps.). There are a handful of people that have clung to me our entire lives, and I am so grateful. Their love and friendship gives me hope— hope that even though I’m probably too antisocial for many friendships, some people will understand me and continue making an effort to be in my life. And I’m thankful for Matt, my current boyfriend. Thank you, Matthew, for helping me heal and grow through love.
Let them go. They deserve it.