For the longest time, I thought if I could just show them how much they meant to me and how much I loved them, that would make them stay. I’d be sinking in quicksand, being so anxious about the ways they could leave me, that I’d just quickly try to reprimand them, when really I’ve known all along that it’s best to let people go. You can’t make people stay. What’s meant for you will stay. You can’t force love. 

For the first time since I blocked his number, my heart started skipping beats—and not in a good way. I had just realized that it’s been hours since he hasn’t tried to reach me. Not that I had hoped and prayed he wouldn’t, because that would be easier on me. He would have nothing nice to say.

There was this one time I called him in tears and begged him to bring me some peace, and I had childishly asked, “Please say something nice before you hang up”. And he had no words. 

I’ll mourn the love I had for this man, but I won’t mourn the way he loved me, because he loved me so little and almost cruelly. It broke me. Sometimes not being loved enough is what shatters you.

Ending it is a choice I made to not stay broken. I’m flawed, but I don’t need to be with a man who criticizes everything I am. It almost sinks me to know he’d just be relieved this is over. So am I. 

I’m allowed to spiral a little, maybe even feel lost.

Walking away from everything you wanted can be painful, but that’s okay. 

I borrowed a Chicken Soup for the Couple’s Soul book, and there’s no way I can finish reading that now when my heart is in the midst of turmoil. 

Usually I thank people for all they do for me, but for you, I have nothing to give thanks for because you took away so much. 

I will never know you in March. March will have none of you. You took away my June, July, August, September, October, November, December, January, and February. 

But March, March is for me. 

I don’t think I ever really needed a relationship. But over the last year, my group had some diversity, and I met new people. People who were in relationships, with me being the outlier. And that pressured me into believing their normal should be my normal. I wanted what they had, too. Perhaps that’s the reason why I settled so often. 

But being here now and going to bed knowing no one is fucking with your heart anymore is something I’ve prayed for all the times I went to bed in tears while my heart was breaking.

I was stuck in emotional torture. And they’d often ask me, “What have I done that you’re being this way?”

And I’d just try to stop the tears from coming because, in that moment, I’d question myself about what they had indeed done. I cared so deeply for this man that I was okay with altering my reality for him. I’d believe his words over how he treated me. I’d hope so much, even when he continues to hurt me over and over again. He would hurt me and then get mad at the fact that I was hurt. I felt so weak and so pointless in his eyes. A man has never made me feel so little. 

So that’s why, even if it broke my heart, I had to go. Leaving was the only way I could survive. 

I’m okay with spending the rest of my life alone; I’m not okay with spending it with someone who tortures my heart. 

I did feel silly, blocking someone who wasn’t even trying to contact me. 

It’s just I had to decide. I couldn’t wait around. Also, hours of silence had told me so much. And I couldn’t have a conversation because I knew it would only break me down. To be strong, I had to do it so cowardly. 

There was indeed nothing more to say. There was no need for closure when I’d gotten it in every moment of silence, neglect, and anger. I had more than enough to go on without ever wondering, “What if? 

I gave it my all, but it just wasn’t enough. I bared my soul and home to him, and he just walked all over it. This is it. This is me being done. Being done with a person who simply couldn’t love me right despite my efforts in trying to persuade him. 

Dear March, love me harder. I need it more than I usually do. 

I lost two things I loved so much today.

If it weren’t for both, the pain of losing the other would be unbearable. My heart was balanced by the two.

I have to ride this storm alone. I’m letting go because holding on has become too painful. Some goodbyes can be freeing too, right? 

There are moments I wish the ground would swallow me whole, tonight was such.

I thought having to spend the rest of your life explaining to someone the way you were would suck, but what sucks more is having to explain and them not understanding at all.

You just sit there feeling silly and hurt yet unable to move because you’re crippled by your own demons.

It’s a different kind of heartbreak, having to muffle your cries because you don’t want to wake them up, when they were fine going to bed, when you needed them.

Deafening silence, all too familiar horror. 

How did I end up here?