Of singlehood to me.
I was hella in pain that night. After an unforgiving 24 hours of Cold War, I decided to break the silence and reached out. This time round, it was different – I could sense his lack of enthusiasm.
After a few exchanges, I made the decision: let’s go on separate ways. That was the last he heard of me. I was prideful still, and wanted to make sure I held my head high up as I walked out of this relationship. I remember how I got my friend, Tea, to help me to get my stuff back. He replied, saying he’d deliver my items to me personally.
That night, I opened my door to see 8 bags worth of my belongings. And for him? I had only one bag of his stuff at my place. At that moment, I finally realised what was going on: I had loved and committed to him way too much, and our love was too uneven – to the extent it was just toxic and unhealthy.
Fast forward to today, I can finally, finally say that I have moved past it. I feel the happiest that I’ve ever been, though I’d still think twice before committing to the next person.
I don’t think I’d ever fully heal, but I learned to get used to not having this person in my life. Once in a while, I look back and reminiscence the good ol’ times, then realise, how much I’ve grown.
I told some of my friends about this blogpost, and some laughed. I know it seems trivial or that I’m washing my dirty laundry in public too much. But I wanted to share this with the others who’s in a similar situation as me – broken and in a mess. You’re not alone. You’ll be fine, one day.
You’ve done a great job, Olivia. Keep going.
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