You're No Longer Here And It Still Hurts Sometimes
Five months. 150 days. 3600 hours.
It's been five months since you left and in reality, that's not a lot of time but sure feels like it. Being confined to the four walls of this house has slowed and sped up time all at once. It feels as it were a lifetime ago when you left, but at the same time, it feels as if it were yesterday all over again.
For the most part, I've learned to be okay with you gone but it still hurts sometimes. There are days I get stuck and start spiraling about every single thing we ever said to each other. I find myself wishing I had done things or acted differently because then maybe things wouldn't have broken down the way they did.
I find myself feeling awful that even now, still, I think about you and how I think I'm to blame for us falling apart. Some small part of me still thinks there could've been something I could've done to stop you from leaving.
In retrospect, I understand why you took everything and ran away as quickly as you did. I'm someone who can only feel at home in the midst of a hurricane that tears apart houses and drowns entire towns from existence. And I tend to forget not everyone, especially you don’t need the chaos of mass destruction to survive the insufferable mundanity of everyday life.
Some days I feel as if I lost you sooner than I wanted to, but I know you don't feel the same. Thinking about that is what hurts the most. I could always tell you were itching to find a way out. You let go so easily as if I meant nothing as if I were nothing.
It's heartbreaking that those days I find my grief pouring out of me so quickly I cannot contain any of it. I'm grieving over someone who I never mattered to and chose to take his secrets to the grave over believing my fears to be real.
I swear I'd stop thinking about you & let you go if I could. I'm not holding on because I want to it's just I don't know where to put down all the anger and pain I carry around from you.
And maybe I think I'll lose myself if I'm not angry at you, justifying who are or even grieving you. I'm uncertain of where who I was with you will go if I no longer let you live in the back of my mind.
What you did to me no longer matters it's in the past, it has passed, but that doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt sometimes.
Now, all these months later all I can say is that it happened how it was supposed to. We were only ever destined to go up in flames and I knew that. Nothing was ever going to change that we were not meant to stay in each other's lives.
I've let go of the idea that things could've ended differently. If they could've ended differently then they would've, but they didn't.
Opinions and Perspectives
This article really hits home. The raw honesty about grief and letting go is something I think many of us can relate to.
The part about time feeling both slow and fast after a breakup is so accurate. I experienced the same thing when my relationship ended last year.
I disagree with the self-blame in the article. Sometimes relationships just don't work out and that's nobody's fault.
The hurricane metaphor is incredibly powerful. It perfectly captures how some people thrive in chaos while others need calm.
The writing is beautiful but I think the author needs to be kinder to themselves. Five months is still very fresh for processing a breakup.
Anyone else catch themselves nodding along to the part about not knowing where to put all the anger and pain? That's exactly how I felt.
I understand the sentiment but I think holding onto anger only hurts ourselves in the long run.
Interesting perspective about identity being tied to grief. Never thought about it that way before.
The line about being someone who feels at home in hurricanes really struck me. Sometimes we're just fundamentally different from the people we love.
This feels like reading pages from my own journal. The way time warps after someone leaves is so strange.
I actually think five months is a long time to still be this wrapped up in someone who chose to leave.
That's quite insensitive. Everyone processes loss differently and there's no timeline for healing.
The author captures that strange limbo between knowing it's over and still feeling stuck perfectly.
What really resonates with me is how we can understand why someone left but still feel hurt by their leaving.
The part about losing yourself if you let go of the anger really made me think about my own healing process.
Sometimes I wonder if we romanticize the pain of breakups too much through writing like this.
I don't think it's romanticizing. It's just being honest about the messy reality of healing.
The way they describe grief pouring out uncontrollably some days is so accurate it hurts.
Can we talk about how beautifully written that hurricane metaphor is? Really captures the essence of incompatibility.