Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long.
--Gravity, Sara Bereilles
It's those unexpected moments that get you, when something seemingly mundane and irrelevant brings back so many memories. The simplest objects reveal a whole other life than what they have because of your shared experience. And they’re scattered all over your room—and all over your life. They remind you of the way things used to be and they make the first few weeks apart incredibly hard to bear.
There are things you see or use every day, like little notes in your wallet or pictures on your phone or computer, which you decided to remove already. But there are also those things that surprise you in the middle of the day. Things that you don’t necessarily think are important, but which tell a story by themselves. There’s the barely used tube of facial cleanser, that frumpy out of place throw pillow, and the clanking tin box in your car. There are things you bought together, like a comb that you use every day, a game board gathering dust in the corner of your room, a pack of tic-tacs you keep in your car, or even a shirt that you think of wearing every morning when you’re dressing up. They’re just things, but they carry stories. And reliving these stories, makes it harder to forget, especially when they seem to have invaded every other minute of your life.
Then every now and then, you just remember parts of your life that you associate with her. It can be the sudden memory of parking into a garage that you'll never do again. It can be the image of someone from her family, who you have grown fond of, but will never see again. It’s the little routines that seemed repetitive and tedious, but which now you look for as you’re never going to do them again. It’s the memory of your little arguments, how you resolve them, and how you make up for whatever you were fighting about. It’s what she usually says when you make comments about various things. And it’s how she appeases you after you get into a fight and she wants to make for up it. Your interaction has created an imprint in your life and now you’re having a hard time trying to pop out of the impression.
Then you remember her in the downtimes: when the car seat beside you is once again bare, when the only voice you hear on the road is yours, when you come up with the most amazing silly little thought and there is no one there to share it with, when you come back from lunch after a hectic morning at work and there is no one to rant to, when you leave your phone for a while and come back to it without any missed calls or text messages, when you’re all alone on the road at three in the morning without anyone knowing where you are and what you’re doing. You are suddenly reminded of how alone you are in this big cold world. In these moments, everything in your body is crying out for her. But you’ve got to accept that she’s no longer there.
That’s the problem in all of this breakup downtime, you focus on all of the negatives, all the things that are lost or are missing. But who can blame you? It’s not like you’re not seeing the good sides. You do. You appreciate the freedom to think and act however you want to and you relish and take pride in your strength and independence. But, again, some things just creep up on you and strike right through your heart.
I have dealt with being alone for the most part of my adult life. I am sure that I can recover and get back to the flow of things. It’s just hard when you’re introduced to this alternative way of living which is definitely a whole lot more pleasant even with its occupational hazards.
She was love at first sight. She brought magic into my life. And for the life of me, I still don’t understand the gravity she holds on me. She is beyond reason and comprehension, when a million times my head whispers that we shouldn’t be together, a million and one times my heart shouts back that we have to be together.
But we knew from the start that it wasn’t going to last. We knew that we were moving in different streams, but we held on to each other anyway. We were torn up, bruised, and broken. But we held on till the very end. We knew it had to end sometime, and I guess time had finally caught up with us.
Yes, I am still struggling to spend a day without thinking of her. How can I not, when everything just attaches themselves to the memory of her? But I know that time will take its course. I know that fate will lead us to where we should be. And I know that God has a plan for all of us. I pray for strength, courage, guidance, and hope.
I think the first step is acceptance. And that’s what I’m learning to do. And though I’m sure there will be more moments that catch me by surprise, I know that I will get through those moments. Everybody does.
It was great while it lasted. But I’m ready to let go now.
It's those unexpected moments that get you, when something seemingly mundane and irrelevant brings back so many memories. The simplest objects reveal a whole other life than what they have because of your shared experience. And they’re scattered all over your room—and all over your life. They remind you of the way things used to be and they make the first few weeks apart incredibly hard to bear.
There are things you see or use every day, like little notes in your wallet or pictures on your phone or computer, which you decided to remove already. But there are also those things that surprise you in the middle of the day. Things that you don’t necessarily think are important, but which tell a story by themselves. There’s the barely used tube of facial cleanser, that frumpy out of place throw pillow, and the clanking tin box in your car. There are things you bought together, like a comb that you use every day, a game board gathering dust in the corner of your room, a pack of tic-tacs you keep in your car, or even a shirt that you think of wearing every morning when you’re dressing up. They’re just things, but they carry stories. And reliving these stories, makes it harder to forget, especially when they seem to have invaded every other minute of your life.
Then every now and then, you just remember parts of your life that you associate with her. It can be the sudden memory of parking into a garage that you'll never do again. It can be the image of someone from her family, who you have grown fond of, but will never see again. It’s the little routines that seemed repetitive and tedious, but which now you look for as you’re never going to do them again. It’s the memory of your little arguments, how you resolve them, and how you make up for whatever you were fighting about. It’s what she usually says when you make comments about various things. And it’s how she appeases you after you get into a fight and she wants to make for up it. Your interaction has created an imprint in your life and now you’re having a hard time trying to pop out of the impression.
Then you remember her in the downtimes: when the car seat beside you is once again bare, when the only voice you hear on the road is yours, when you come up with the most amazing silly little thought and there is no one there to share it with, when you come back from lunch after a hectic morning at work and there is no one to rant to, when you leave your phone for a while and come back to it without any missed calls or text messages, when you’re all alone on the road at three in the morning without anyone knowing where you are and what you’re doing. You are suddenly reminded of how alone you are in this big cold world. In these moments, everything in your body is crying out for her. But you’ve got to accept that she’s no longer there.
That’s the problem in all of this breakup downtime, you focus on all of the negatives, all the things that are lost or are missing. But who can blame you? It’s not like you’re not seeing the good sides. You do. You appreciate the freedom to think and act however you want to and you relish and take pride in your strength and independence. But, again, some things just creep up on you and strike right through your heart.
I have dealt with being alone for the most part of my adult life. I am sure that I can recover and get back to the flow of things. It’s just hard when you’re introduced to this alternative way of living which is definitely a whole lot more pleasant even with its occupational hazards.
She was love at first sight. She brought magic into my life. And for the life of me, I still don’t understand the gravity she holds on me. She is beyond reason and comprehension, when a million times my head whispers that we shouldn’t be together, a million and one times my heart shouts back that we have to be together.
But we knew from the start that it wasn’t going to last. We knew that we were moving in different streams, but we held on to each other anyway. We were torn up, bruised, and broken. But we held on till the very end. We knew it had to end sometime, and I guess time had finally caught up with us.
Yes, I am still struggling to spend a day without thinking of her. How can I not, when everything just attaches themselves to the memory of her? But I know that time will take its course. I know that fate will lead us to where we should be. And I know that God has a plan for all of us. I pray for strength, courage, guidance, and hope.
I think the first step is acceptance. And that’s what I’m learning to do. And though I’m sure there will be more moments that catch me by surprise, I know that I will get through those moments. Everybody does.
It was great while it lasted. But I’m ready to let go now.
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