the first month is always the hardest
And the saddest.
A couple of weeks ago, I lost the love of my life to the big world out there. What I once considered mine is now the world's possession. I was too selfish to let go knowing that once out there, everything becomes out of control and unpredictable. That to him, my existence becomes shrouded by the multitude of stimuli the outside world has to offer: that the spotlight that was once mine has now become a searchlight; that I will not be his source of joy and happiness; that the loudness of the world will soon overpower my heart shouting I love him very much.
I have sort of predicted this day would come. Yet I hoped for the best, wishing hard that our love and my commitment would be strong enough to keep our goals in harmony. But we are two people in different phases of life. While his youth yearned for exploration, nine relationships and countless "pokpok" years left me nothing but to search for solace. While my recent ex thinks that what we had could perhaps be the best, he could not live his life wondering if there is something better. He has to feed his curiosity even if it might mean the possibility of losing “us”. I have to admit that I may never understand this logic. The only thing I know is this is what he wants. I shall give.
I love him too much.
But I love myself too and I wish not to be around while he is looking for "better".
A month after the breakup, I still find it hard to accept that our little nook in this world has become too small for his desires and dreams. I ask myself why is it that I feel hurt and pain despite knowing this breakup is a possibility. I guess I thought love would be enough. But just like the song, maybe it just ain't. It is hard to see everything go down the drain given the work and effort I have exerted to make this work.
After more than two years of being together, I now have to face life without him. The firsts are the hardest: The first time I slept in bed knowing he will not be there; the first time I saw the stuff in his dresser gone; my first weekend without him around; paying bills for the first time without his share in the rent and utilities; the first dish I’ll be making without him. More than a year of living under one roof makes him so easy to miss. Albeit painstaking, I am surprised to find myself intact to face the next "first". Some friends might find me too emotional and melodramatic in dealing with this situation, but the fact is I am moving forward at my own pace. I shall get through this soon.
Amidst the pain and sadness, there are some "firsts" that are not that bad. Since the breakup, I have had my first drink, first bonding nights with friends, my first dance, my first pokpok-y dance, my first date, my first flirt, my first f*ck, my first hug, my first kiss. Soon, I'll get to show my first happy smile and possibly, my first love.
For now I have to live it and wait, quoting my recent ex, "let us get on with the program”.
A couple of weeks ago, I lost the love of my life to the big world out there. What I once considered mine is now the world's possession. I was too selfish to let go knowing that once out there, everything becomes out of control and unpredictable. That to him, my existence becomes shrouded by the multitude of stimuli the outside world has to offer: that the spotlight that was once mine has now become a searchlight; that I will not be his source of joy and happiness; that the loudness of the world will soon overpower my heart shouting I love him very much.
I have sort of predicted this day would come. Yet I hoped for the best, wishing hard that our love and my commitment would be strong enough to keep our goals in harmony. But we are two people in different phases of life. While his youth yearned for exploration, nine relationships and countless "pokpok" years left me nothing but to search for solace. While my recent ex thinks that what we had could perhaps be the best, he could not live his life wondering if there is something better. He has to feed his curiosity even if it might mean the possibility of losing “us”. I have to admit that I may never understand this logic. The only thing I know is this is what he wants. I shall give.
I love him too much.
But I love myself too and I wish not to be around while he is looking for "better".
A month after the breakup, I still find it hard to accept that our little nook in this world has become too small for his desires and dreams. I ask myself why is it that I feel hurt and pain despite knowing this breakup is a possibility. I guess I thought love would be enough. But just like the song, maybe it just ain't. It is hard to see everything go down the drain given the work and effort I have exerted to make this work.
After more than two years of being together, I now have to face life without him. The firsts are the hardest: The first time I slept in bed knowing he will not be there; the first time I saw the stuff in his dresser gone; my first weekend without him around; paying bills for the first time without his share in the rent and utilities; the first dish I’ll be making without him. More than a year of living under one roof makes him so easy to miss. Albeit painstaking, I am surprised to find myself intact to face the next "first". Some friends might find me too emotional and melodramatic in dealing with this situation, but the fact is I am moving forward at my own pace. I shall get through this soon.
Amidst the pain and sadness, there are some "firsts" that are not that bad. Since the breakup, I have had my first drink, first bonding nights with friends, my first dance, my first pokpok-y dance, my first date, my first flirt, my first f*ck, my first hug, my first kiss. Soon, I'll get to show my first happy smile and possibly, my first love.
For now I have to live it and wait, quoting my recent ex, "let us get on with the program”.