Moving On

Time offers the only foolproof way to understand the importance of any relationship. I’m not talking about the length of the relationship itself (that's not a valid indicator, no, not at all). I’m talking about the time it takes to finally let go.

He was the one who made the final speech but I knew that we were headed there. We met in a coffee shop, public enough to control the situation, control me, should it get out of hand. We made small talk for a moment and then I was silent. If he was going to be the one ending the relationship, he was the one who was going to have to make the speech. He did. "I will always love you, but..." was the basic gist of it. I was silent. Not a single tear, not a single whimper, not a single word of protest. (I found out later that he should have used the “I found someone else” speech) I sat for probably two minutes, forcing myself not to give in to the urge of hurling something in his direction. What for? I knew it was over even before it ended, I was expecting it. But nothing really prepares you for the inevitable no matter how much you tell yourself that its better this way. But what if? What if? What if? I couldn’t deny what I felt. I was shattered.

It was the first time I fell in love. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in relationships before, but nothing like this. This was the first time I gave in to the intense need of my soul to connect with someone else. The first time I put down all my defenses and let someone in. I gave in and suffered the consequences. I still am. I’d like to think that I live my life without any regrets. I believe that one should stand firm in every decision one makes. As life throws you punches you either roll with it or you stand your ground. Either way, you get over it. But as my pain consumed me, I found myself unsure of how to move on. I’m a strong person. I thrive in my independence. And there I was, broken, and there was nothing I could do but feel the pain and hope against hope that it would end soon.

I stopped living. I merely existed. No one knew of the battle I was going through. Not my family, not my friends. Only a couple of my most trusted friends knew, and even then they did not know the extent of the damage done. Sometimes I actually found myself quite amusing, it felt like all the bloody clichés in the world applied to me. (World shattering, heart breaking and all that) I tried picking up the pieces and go through the motions of life. Yes, as embarrassed as I was to admit, I realized that I was just as gullible as the next person, I was fooled. I mean, what the hell was I thinking? I allowed my world to revolve around the two of us, and when it was over I was lost. And now I have to pay the price.

So why, if the memories are bittersweet, do I find myself rehashing old wounds? I guess it’s because I believe that you can never really move forward till you’ve let go of the past. Till you’ve had closure and understand the reasons behind the reasons. It has been a while, more than a year… almost two… Moments of remembering ar now far and between still I know I have yet to fully recover. Each time I take one step forward I brace myself for the fear that tries to overpower me. The insecurity that overwhelms me. The thing is, how does one move on? Literally move on. I find myself wanting to escape to a new life, a new city, a new job, new friends and most importantly wanting a new me. I want it so much I can feel it to the depths of my soul.

William Shakespeare says, "Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none."

I did all three. But I guess I should focus more on number two next time. Some people just don't know how to handle love; they end up hurting you instead of loving you back. Might it be true that not all people deserve to be loved?

Still, I remember that night quite vividly. I remember the feeling. I realized that emotional ties may simply come to erode and fray with time and, finally (unexpectedly), snap one day. I discovered that hearts may (in fact, may even need to)…someday…simply let go.