When you break up with somebody, it becomes all about you. What did you do wrong, what didn’t you do wrong. You concentrate on how badly you feel, how rotten it all is, how sad it is.
But now I’m wondering about the other side of it. I’m wondering about how badly he feels.
I really loved B. And despite the end of our relationship, I think he really loved me. So now I’m at a point where I am trying my best to not let the ending ruin everything that came before. It’s a delicate balancing act, this; because I don’t want to hear people tell me that he wasn’t good enough for me or he was stupid for ending it; but I also don’t want to assume that he was the one because that would just not be healthy.
I have found myself imagining his current state of mind, if he’s upset or crying; if he lays in bed wishing I was there the way I do. I think he does. I don’t think anybody is happy or satisfied with the outcome.
It’s difficult to just say, “we loved each other but it didn’t work out.” But I think that’s what it comes down to. Sometimes life doesn’t give you a dramatic and profound story to tell.
