The article I should have written 8 years ago. Naunahan lang ako…. Hehehe.
I am an ex.
I know that it's stupid -- and silly -- to sound as if my whole life revolved around being somebody's ex-boyfriend. But I can't help it ... that title packs a pretty strong punch. I am now and official member of the "love-and-lost" club. And while it's a title I don't exactly want, I have to admit that it does say something about me.
I am an ex. I once loved someone who loved me back. But she didn't want to stay ... so I had to let her go.
I cried. A lot. I spent countless nights wondering what went wrong, muffling my sobs with my pillows. I'd reminisce about our happy times, then break down when I realize that she's no longer mine. I analyzed every single detail of our breakup. I wrote long e-mails to my closest friends. I talked endlessly about my situation. I spent my nights in tearful telephone conversations and my days in daydreams where we'd end up in each other's arms again.
I told myself that it was all for the better. That this is what's best for the both of us. That this is God's plan. My friends offered similar advice, none of which I hadn't heard before: "It's a sign that you're not meant for each other," "When God closes a door, He opens a window," "Someone better is coming for you," "There are so many other fish in the sea," etc..
But it didn't work. Because deep down inside of me, I still believed that she is the one, the only one. And I couldn't understand how this was all for the better when everyday seemed more torturous than the last--not being able to be with her the way I wanted to be, seeing her so unaffected, and dealing with my broken-and-smashed heart and my bruised ego.
I tried to immerse myself in other activities to forget about her. I went out a lot and tire myself to sleep. I filled my schedule with T.V. and movie marathons, and Music Maniax. It worked for a while but then there were times when my mind was cleared of the busy thoughts, I tried to occupy it with those times that I would think of her. His memory would sneak up to me on tiptoes, catching me in my most vulnerable moments.
I tried to show the world that I am OK..that I am over her.. that it was fine just being friends. I didn't go around with a big "X" on my forehead, nor did I go around with puffy eyes . I tried to live my life as I knew it before I met her. People thought that I was doing great.
They heard me laugh and they saw me smile; I seemed happy, they said; and I told myself that I am. But in the solace of my room, where I tried to organize my thoughts and sort out my feelings, I had to admit to myself that I am not truly happy. Because I am still yearning for someone, and my heart still ached for something that could not be.
Surprisingly, things have gotten better. I've changed. Somewhere along the way, I realized that she's not the only one out there for me. I also realized that there were valid, powerful reasons why we split up.. And I've become stronger, older, wiser.
I've loved and lost. I've cried tears for the things that were and that could have been. I've wrestled with intense feelings of love and hate, of jealousy, of frustration. I've simultaneously taken down and brought up my pride. I've tried to rebuild my world without the person whom it used to revolve around. I've tried to save myself from the depths of depression and self-pity, and when I couldn't do that, I turned to God for help.
I don't know exactly what I gained, or how much I lost. Maybe someday it will all be clear to me ... then again, maybe not.