urs (Taylor’s Version)
Breakups are hard, bro.
Is that why I have an anxious-avoidant attachment style? We still have yet to find out since I just bought Amir Levine and Rachel S.F. Heller’s Attached.
Back to the present: It’s the first week of 2022. What better way to ring in the new year than heartbreak? Yes, some folks are getting sick, fevers and all. But there are the lovers who are going through it with the ailments of a broken heart.
I woke up to a box of belongings that came from my ex. I still have yet to open it and go through the contents. It’s hard thinking about it. It’s hard thinking about how my time with this person (at least at this season of my life) is over.
I’m writing to just write, yknow. I just thought it might be great to put my feelings out there and tell the whole world: I’m fucking sad! I can’t help, but feel that sadness beat through my heart and into the rest of my body and into every thought I have.
And that’s the thing about breakups: there are so many “What If’s?” What if I had done this? What if I tried? What if I changed and made it work? What if we tried one more time? What if I respond? What if this makes both of us feel better?
Being the empath I am, I am so willing to take that burden and blame it all on me. It’s the way I feel sad that I inflicted so much pain on someone, not just within our relationship, but making the intentional choice of letting them go and hoping that the other person does the same. Yes, I didn’t respond to the last text.
I didn’t respond to the last text he sent because it felt like we were going in circles. It felt like we were in this place again — a place where we weren’t listening to each other and the rugs beneath our feet were being pulled right before our very eyes. It was tiring to have to muster up the energy to offer any information, let alone listen intentionally and willingly. It’s just, this fight…I didn’t really hear anything, but the agony in both of our voices. It was the agony of not being heard and that pain forcefully pushing forth pleas to make the person — who is visibly hurt — understand that pain.
That’s why I did it. I speak to the voice within that seeks to shoulder all of the pain brought on by the relationship. But I am here to speak kindly to that voice. I am encouraging it to feel the sadness, to feel the emptiness, the grief of a love lost. I speak kindly to it and remind that voice that it was for the best.
My ex and I were trapped in a cycle — one wanted something, but the other wanted something else. And when we came to a fissure in our relationship, even after all the good memories we were making, we brought out the same versions of ourselves that were deeply hurt from something the other person did previously in the relationship.
It made me sad to see these versions of ourselves come out when we fought. It was so different from the smile he had on his face when he was genuinely happy. It made me sad that everything I wanted started to bring him sadness. And it was that moment that I thought it might be best to sever those ties and let go. Not out of malice. Not out of spite. But the inevitability of reckoning with the fact that we were no longer compatible and could not fill each other’s cup in the way we wanted.
It’s the way we both changed how our nervous system reacted in situations like this. No matter how hard we tried, we didn’t have a chance.
I still believe though. As I surrender to the Universe and God, I know that there is something better for both of us. Whether it’s in this life or the next, we have something waiting for us that will soothe our spirits and give refuge to our hearts.
I hope he knows that. I truly hope he does.
