Do you remember your worst heartbreak?
My worst heartbreak came at the end of my first serious relationship. I met this boy when I was 11, we grew up together and started dating during our teens. We had a falling out when I was 16, and then a year later he came back like nothing had happened. When we finally called it quits when I was 17, that’s when I felt like I wasn’t going to survive it. The breakup was one sided, he ghosted me, had his closure, and left me wondering what had happened. I remember telling myself that I knew this boy, I knew his character and his intentions, and I knew he would never put me through this type of hell. I had convinced myself there was some other factor for him purely shattering my heart and leaving without a care in the world. Every time my phone would ring, I hoped it was him. I had heard people describe this type of heartbreak, the kind where you lay in bed with an empty feeling in your chest. Every breath you take feels like it is slowly killing you and there is nothing you can do to take the pain away. I spent hours obsessing over why I wasn’t good enough, reading old conversations, and wondering what went wrong. I felt so disposable.
To me, the worst part is when it isn’t socially acceptable to be hurt anymore. I would love to say I got over it in a month or two and moved on with my life, but I didn’t. I was stuck in this pain for three years. After a certain point, it wasn’t about the fact that the boy I loved was gone and wasn’t coming back, it was what his abandonment made me feel about myself. I treated myself like actual trash. I was being impulsive, reckless, and careless. I didn’t care what happened to me or the people around me because I was hurting, so I wanted everyone else to hurt, too.
It took me almost four years to “get over” this boy and process his impact on myself. I think the reason I held onto him for as long as I could is because he was a part of who I was. I loved who I was when I was with him, and hated who I was when he wasn’t there. Without him, I was anxious, gloomy, impulsive, defensive. But when he was with me, I was happy, kind, innocent. I didn’t want to lose that part of myself. Letting go of him meant letting that part of myself die, and I didn’t want to. I tried a million times, and then the next week I would be crying over him again.
But, recently, something changed. I was reading an old diary entry about him, and for the first time ever, I didn’t feel like I missed him. I felt sad for the girl who had stained the pages with her tears and wished I could hug her, but I had no desire to reconnect with that boy. I finally stopped recognizing him as the person who had loved me in ways no one else ever had and started recognizing him as the person who left me broken in ways I didn’t even know I could break. It truly feels like a weight has been lifted from me. I used to think letting go was just a fancy way of saying something didn’t happen, and I refused to give that to him. If I had to handle the burden of all the worst things he did to me, then he would, too. But now I am so happy I let him go so I can finally move on to the next chapter of my life.
The point of this article is I get it. You lost someone and it freaking hurts. If you’re like me, you don’t want to hear how the sun will rise in the morning and you get a fresh start. You don’t want to hear how time heals all wounds, that others have it worse, how you’re so strong or that you have to get a grip. I’m not going to tell you all that crap because to be honest? I don’t believe it. I want you to know that it’s okay to take your time. Every single person processes and moves on at their own pace and nobody will understand your personal struggles. All I ask is when you feel ready, pick yourself up from the ground. If you can’t, allow people to help you through this. You don’t have to be alone. It’s okay if you take one step forward and five steps back. It’s okay if you’re fine today, but wake up tomorrow feeling like it’s fresh. Don’t hold back the tears and don’t stand still. You have to keep moving, even if it’s tiny steps. And most importantly, you have to heal for yourself, not for anyone else. You don’t owe anyone anything.
You are going to be okay, no matter how long it takes.