It has been 2 months since I parted ways with someone whom I once considered vital to my existence.
If I had known I would miss him this much, I probably wouldn’t have wanted what I did.
But the alternative to an inevitable, yet hopefully temporary, loneliness is to lose my identity. To be with him means to be unappreciated, taken for granted.
Never have I demanded more than what he was willing to give. This was not because I thought it was undeserved but because I needed him to want to treat me better – with respect, care, understanding.
But why then, if this person did not treat me right, do I miss him so much that I feel the pain of his absence in my whole body?
The notion of being alone never scared me, loneliness never scared me. But I craved his attention, validation… and the rarity of which he showed affection.
When I miss him, I re-read our conversations, look at old photos and paint a picture of his face in my mind.
And then I am reminded why – why I missed him but why I had to love myself more.
Trying to put everything into perspective, I almost regret the decision of saying goodbye. Just almost.
P.S. Please feel free to relate your story here.