To My Ex-Boyfriend

To My Ex-Boyfriend

(Note: Please listen to Coldplay’s Fix You or 16 Frames’ Let’s Pretend as you read through this. 

Come on, play the song to make the reading more dramatic. Download if you don't have one. It's completely essential. . . . 

Do you have the song already? Put your earphones on and shut the world around you. . 

Sorry about that. 

I'll let you read now.)


I never saw it coming. I never did. I didn't see myself asking the dreaded questions I thought I would only hear in movies or read in novels.

But now, I’m asking you as I have asked myself. What happened to us? What changed?

We used to be inseparable. We used to feel like we were the only ones living in this world, a world we made as our own. We used to never care how people around us would react to what we do. We both knew we were different from others and that was what made our love special.

I could still remember that night – the first memory we created together. It’s still strikingly fresh and painful, believe me. We were both drunk. Lost and confused. As we lay on your bed with my back at you, you suddenly snaked your arms around me, giving me warmth I never thought I wanted, letting me know that it's going to be okay as long as you're there with me. You made me believe in an instant that you could save me from whatever I was dwelling at the moment, that you could be somebody in my life only if I wanted to. I believed you. I really did. So I opened my heart, free from unnecessary baggage. 

We went to see Rio 2 together. Oh, we were both nervous. We were both scared of what this newly found love would bring us. After countless films we’d watched, we’d grown fond and comfortable with each other’s presence, like we felt the need to be together or we'd go insane. 

You always seemed to have this habit of taking pictures of yourself and maybe that was what I loved about you. You were so confident. You were so amazing. And I loved how your piercing black eyes could see right through mine. And your lips, oh, I missed how they would curve into a beautiful smile as we talked nonsense stuff all night.

Months had passed until I finally introduced you to my parents. I know it was only as a friend because we were both scared from the judgments we both couldn’t live with. We’ve had a hard time revealing it to our friends either, afraid of the same reason. But after a moment, I didn’t seem to care anymore. Because the thought of living without you was far more terrifying than any pointless comments other people might have on us. They have no idea what we feel. They don't know what we’ve been through. They don't know anything about us and the love we had. 

For two years, we loved. For two years, we were happy. We’ve had our disagreements, of course. We’ve had our doubts. We’ve had dark episodes. But, at the end of the day, we always remembered that our love would be enough to obliterate them all.

But came one evening, in an unexpected excruciating message you sent me, you decided to end it all. Without any satisfying explanation. Without my deepest consideration. Like I didn’t have a say to our relationship, and that my reaction wouldn’t matter in any way. You explained that you didn’t want to waste your time living a lie – a lie that I thought was endless love you had for me. You said that I would find another man who will give the love I asked from you. But, honestly, I don’t know anymore, maybe because I am still obsessed with the idea of us growing old together, happy and sad. Too obsessed, I became imprisoned by it. I can't avoid the fact that no matter how hard I try to convince myself that you aren't,  I know that, deep down inside, you're the only one that can make me happy right now. 

We talked about it, oh, we did. That I completely disagreed on your actions. That maybe you were just as lost as before and needed reminding. I might have begged. That's what love does to people. It makes you do stupid things for the one you desperately cleave. 

Unfortunately, you'd already made up your mind. I thought we could work it out. And I'm sorry for trying. I tried to accept the numerous reasons that you gave me – that maybe we were not meant to be, that maybe we should end it sooner rather than later because we both know we’re just hurting each other. 

I can’t make you love me like before. I completely know that. You said yourself that it's all gone now and there's nothing I could do to make it come back. I wish we could finish what we started. Now, I realized they were all foolish - the stupid dreams and goals we had. And that I was just fighting alone in a battlefield I thought was our love. Silly, I know. I guess I was just too selfish to let you go yet. 

It's not fair to love someone who doesn't give it back. But at least now I'm enlightened that it's more unfair and treacherous to let someone believe that he can love her even if he actually can't. At least, you were honest. 

So I hugged you tight that night– one last hug to convince myself that, maybe, you were only lying, that, maybe, you still love me. But I didn’t feel it anymore– the love that was supposed to be there. It was replaced with bleak emptiness and cold. You made a light shudder as if my touch against your skin was unbearable and poisonous. It was heartbreaking. But I think it was what I needed to realize that you were right all along. 

You had been the one for me. Maybe it’s in the past now but I know that what we had was real. We did love each other. We gave the most amazing gift anyone could ever give to a person. And I was grateful for that.

I thank you for everything – for the happiness, for the miseries and for the unforgettable things our love for each other had brought. I never regret on loving you. I will never regret getting drunk that night in your room. I will never regret that we happened. 

I have no idea how long it will take me to move on, but I swear that, one day, I'll be utterly fine and you're just going to be a mere memory to laugh about how stupid love has made me. I’m still hurting to be honest. And mad for how easy it was for you to let go. 

But for now, I think I am ready to release you.

Published by Jenny Lou Cruzado

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