It’s been a while — almost a month. I’m still kicking. In fact, I was offered a job just the other day. I’m waiting for some paperwork to go through and then I can start. I’m approaching it with a little trepidation, but I am also massively excited. My life is finally gaining some momentum again. The work isn’t particularly lucrative so I’m a little worried about how difficult it may be to find somewhere to rent, but I’m determined to make it happen. I can’t wait to have my own apartment and live my own life again.
One thing I’ve noticed, coming out of a long-term relationship, is how much my confidence has fluctuated. The first few months were awful — I felt like I could barely show my face to anybody. I was solitary and anxious. Then when I had to move out of my apartment and go about my way as a singular person, dealing with everyday life independently, I slowly adopted a sort of ‘who cares’ attitude.
My ex-girlfriend and I did everything together. We worked together, lived together and accompanied each other all over the place. I relied on her a lot — she was my comfort. When I lost her, my confidence and tranquility disappeared. I felt as though I would remain a husk forever, but I feel now that I have become a stronger person. Tasks which appeared daunting before no longer seem so bad and I carry myself, not so much with confidence, but with assurance and self-reliance. I used to exist as a unit — I had me and my love — now I exist alone and I feel myself slowly adapting.
I enjoy this newfound fortitude, but that’s not to say I don’t miss the past. Every day I yearn for those erstwhile times. Sorrowful feelings and thoughts pass through my mind every day. What pains me most these days is how she’s just moved on with her life, like it was no trouble at all. I’ve reached out to her, but she seems so disinterested. Was our time together really that inconsequential? It wasn’t to me. Despite the pain, I truly believe in holding on to those who were and are close.
But I feel like I’ll never receive any solace or closure regarding our relationship. Because of her, I will never truly be whole again, but I have said that I want to remain friends — that I want her in my life. I don’t want to feel like our time together was for nothing, I told her. Yet, she seems set on confining me to history. That really tears me up. It keeps me awake at night. If that’s the way it’s going to go, what was it all for? Twelve years seems like a lifetime to me, but apparently it was nothing much to her. I can’t believe that’s the end of our story. What was it all for?