Why we broke up [Editing]

So call me/ Call me Miss Movin' On

"In order to move on you must understand why you felt what you did and why you no longer need to feel it"
- Mitch Albom

This is the journey of how I understood why I felt what I did - you were an amazing person to fall in love with - and why I no longer need to feel it - you were -

I used to say that every love story was sweet but ours was my favorite. That it was hard to explain why. I don't think ours could ever be anyone's favorite. Because it sucked. The beginning was nice but the ending was terrible. 

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a charming boy. It was unexpected, but so obvious. It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. From as far as I can remember, we met in school. - Scratch that, we met via your ex-girlfriend and you had seen me on the beach-. Far from motion pictures, movies, background music and slow motions, our meeting had nothing spectacular. No spark, no firework, not even a proper introduction. It all began with a salutation. I decided for some dark reason to speak to you. Fast forwarding, the parts where we talked non-stop and daily. Then Aryn and Josh kind-of fell in love, at least Josh did. We were virtual friends for this part. Then you decided we'd talk for real, strongly encouraged by William. We developed something between small smiles, small talks and small laughs. Soon came the time where we searched for each other, just like that, to be sure our silent promises stood still. To be certain of each other's presence, to know which one of us would make the first moves. - Hint: it wasn't me-. Then you confessed to Aryn your feelings for me. She told me, of course, girls code. After that you confessed to Laura. During Spring Break, I told you I reciprocated your feelings, you had no clue what I was talking about. We became a couple-to-be as we called it. Then, on the 10th of May, you kissed me and whispered you loved me. And we kissed again on a Wednesday. Then for the third time, I kissed you. We then became a couple. But you already knew this part.

I felt like I could tell you anything, that I could count on you. I once thought I could put a number on what we had. But I realized, love was not something you could count -on-. It is something that fills in your days,  something that doesn't leave any room for thoughts other than your voice, your eyes, you. Everything was better with you by my side, everything was worth it. Everything was better since and with you. Then I started to drive you crazy, pushing your buttons to make you upset. Three moths, trough I was already fed up with our relationship. Three months later and I seldom felt like giving up but something was keeping me there. -Something that might not have even been you.-  I never knew what was happening, all I knew was that I was hurting you.  So maybe I did break you first, perhaps that's why we broke up. Four months trough, I wasn't even sure what love was. If it was related to the feeling of needing someone. If it's something as strong as having someone on our mind all the time. If it's the comforting feeling of being able to rely on someone. If love is physical and psychological. If it is wanting for someone to know all about you yet not everything. I knew you couldn't try to push all of my guys friends away, but you didn't know. Four months later, you told me I was always mad. What a lovely way to describe me. I was torn between feeling it was going to be forever or it wasn't going to last. I thought it was written in the sky. Being fragile and vulnerable, that defined love too, I thought. Giving someone the power to destroy you, yet hoping he wouldn't. -But you did, you fucking did-.  Five months trough, I truly felt like giving up most of the time. We began to fight, it began to be complicated. Most of the time I felt empty. Free from any emotions. Five months later, you let me down and kept talking about Henry. I began to question where we where going and how long we could hold onto false hope. It began to spread, out of hands. We began to fight every night, just before I went to sleep. Then you broke up with me. I wish I could say that's how it ended, but it did not stop there. After a week or so, we got back together. We tried to reset everything. - We failed miserably-. Our record of no fighting time was four days. We fought everyday, no exceptions. You began to feel more desperate, you claimed you didn't believe in us anymore. You claimed you couldn't make any efforts then waltz back in and pretend it never happened, saying you'd do anything for us to work out. I knew we couldn't last like that. You always said the exact same words: « I try my best, I work my ass off making efforts and you don't even look like you care.» Always. After that I cried for no reason at all, I might have reached my breaking point. One day you said you weren't as interested in me, in us, as before. You said you didn't think we'd make it in a year. I felt utterly lost, something had definitely changed. On February second you broke up with me again and I knew you weren't coming back. The end.