It was fourteen minutes after seven o’clock of this day when I finally decided to write about my heartbreak. It was storming violently outside and I can no longer hear the comfort songs that have been playing loudly on my speakers. The setting was a cliché. I’m quite sure that I’ve already read or watched this somewhere. It was a lazy evening but everybody seems busy. There were no stars in the sky although I haven’t checked. There are just certain things in life that you need not a proof or two for you to be persuaded.
I wanted to make this post and not to make this post. Weird and contradicting. You see, when I write, I usually learn from myself. When I hear the little voice which talks inside my head, I judge whether I make sense or not. Now, I wanted to hear myself out and judge whether I make sense or not. On the other hand, I don’t want to make this post because this will make me remember those happy times that I temporarily want to remove from my mind, for the greater heartbreak doesn’t lie on remembering the bitter details about your petty fights but on remembering the happy times together and why it won’t happen again.
My books for the Mathematical paper that I am currently working on are scattered on my table since Sunday. I haven’t opened them yet because as he said during one of those quarrels, my mind is closed and I am not capable of any learning at this time of my life. All has been said and done and I was the one who made the decision to finally give up on what we’re trying so hard to work on. When I think about the memories and happy moments we shared together, I know that I have made a wrong decision, that I have made myself a little more miserable. Yes, something in me is convinced that we can solve this together just like the other problems that made our relationship even stronger. But my rational ego tells me that I made the right decision, that I may be unhappy with my own choice but everyone else will agree that what I did was right and logical. I am preserving myself.
I am afraid to sleep. I am terrified to even close my eyes for I know that all my dreams will be about him. I am scared of myself. I know that some time from now, I will regret the decisions that I made and would want to go back to the time when I gave up and change everything. I am scared of everyone else because they would give me too many what if’s: what if you didn’t give up, what if your problem magically solved itself and what if you’re still together. I know that I would cry for the death of my dreams, for the loss of my plans on being together for the rest of our lives and for the defeat of myself who had been hanging in there for quite some time now. I know that more than missing his smiles, the warmth of his hand and the way he makes me feel so special, I will miss the girl I was whenever we are together. I will miss laughing and feeling so happy just because today is another day that we will be spending loving each other. I will miss the girl who wakes up feeling sorry because she slept accidentally while her boyfriend and she were texting the night before. I will miss the girl who gets all the butterflies in her tummy whenever her boyfriend tells her how much he loves her. I will definitely miss the way everything was, the way every verb is written at their present tense.
Now I’m taking too much time writing every sentence of this post, thinking each of it ends with a period. You see, I am not very fond of endings. I am not so proud of what I did, neither am I happy, but as a grown up, I am supposed to decide not for myself only but for the best of everyone involved. I hope I made the right decision. I hope everything will get better sooner. *hugs and pats her dear self*