Why we broke up [Editing]

Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same

They say sometimes the hardest things and the right ones are the same. And I get it now, it was the right thing to do, just not the easiest for me. It was the hardest thing for me to cope but the right thing for you to do. For so long it felt so wrong I couldn't see how you could have thought it was the right thing to do. How your brain managed to get down to think that giving up on what we had sounded like the best plan ever. For so long it felt like complete crap having to bear days without you. For such a long time I felt like I was drowning without you, as the air left my lungs I recalled the way you left me too. Without ever facing me once, you broke up with me via your IPod, asshole, twice.  

The girl probably had a part in our breakup to, even if you please yourself to say she didn't. I know you're a liar, so what does the truth weight when you're not even able to tell it. You dated her almost three or four weeks after us. It pained me to see you moving on so easily. Like you thought that we didn't matter, that we had nothing. But after you broke up with her because you didn't even love the girl I knew that I had at least that on her. At least I knew that at some point you loved me for real.

Looking at it now, it makes sense. For once, you might have been the smartest. The first to ran away and the first to get out of this maze alive. The first to feel nothing and to get away with nothing. The first to abandon ship and retreat.

I think I should thank you, this might be the part where I finally acknowledge everything you did for me in order to make our lives better. Because when you broke up with me, you gave us freedom and endless possibilities of what do to with our heart. For too long, it turned out that freedom was nothing else than missing you.
With that, you opened my life to a new part. A place where I could be happy. You were right, we weren't happy anymore and we deserved better. Fighting got the end of us, we couldn't even spend a day without wanting to tear each other apart. You were the one to see that. You saw past all the history we had and were the one with a clear mind. It hurt at first, to see how coldly you were thinking. Maybe you only did for your own good, but I'd like to believe you did it for me too. You said it yourself, you did it for us. For what would be best for both of us. Whether or not it served your interests best, whether or not you had to hurt me in the process. 

As for me, I only thought you were heartless. And I'm sorry for that. And all the bullshit I spread behind your back and all the hatred I entertained for so long.

I am truly sorry. But some of it was real though... -sorry but not sorry-.

I've said all those thing trying to get revenge on you. Have something up against you. Maybe it wasn't all true but you can't say it was all false accusation. Because you were a jerk, at the end.  You talked shit behind my back, making me the bad guy. You complained about our history and you came and talked to me again. Probably wishing to rub salt in the wound and to waltz back into my life to make me not forget about you yet. To leave me still hanging onto the hope of having you back. 

Even if I'll never get such apologies from you, I guess it has to be okay this way. That would imply we would have to talk again for that. And the apologies you owe me might take some time. For all the bullshit you spread behind my back and all the times you made fun of me. You should probably explain to me why you despise me so much and what on earth I have done to you to inspire so much despise.  

On those things, I know precisely I'll never get an answer. I can't be the judge because I would obviously be in my favor, so I can't see what I have done wrong.

But I think I know. I did you wrong by pushing you towards your limits. I did you wrong by crying myself every night and blaming you for it. I screwed up when I talked to you rudely. I hurt you while I was trying to protect myself from getting hurt again. I bothered you with my random panic attacks.  I mistook loneliness for love.

I don't really care now if you did it for my own good. I don't even think you'd care about me enough. I heard that sometimes you have to let go of the things you love in order for them to be happy. The only thing that wasn't right was the fact that you didn't love me anymore. You said it yourself. And to this day, these have been the worst words I have ever heard. You felt less interested, maybe a bit impatient. To be honest now, I didn't love you either. How could I have? How could I have love someone who was behind all my tears. I was a mess after we broke up, I broke into tears sometimes trying to understand how I sucked at being yours. I think I cried myself to sleep for not being enough. But my judgement was clouded by my so-called feelings. I was biased by my pain and couldn't see straight enough for me to understand that we played the game with two players. You won, I lost but nonetheless, you were as tangled up in this mess as I was. Love's a game and I definitely lost -my mind-. You played a part in our breakup and I did too. We were both reasons of why we weren't okay anymore.

But it'll probably still ring a bell every time they say your name. It'll probably still make me uncomfortable every time I hear your voice.

But it'll all go away someday. Probably from the day I won't see you ever again. I don't believe our paths will meet again and if they do it'll probably be some odd timing, because you know, destiny is an excuse I won't be hiding behind anymore. And if we do meets, who cares? There is nothing left of us. Maybe because it was so bright it burned so fast. Maybe because it was so insignificant it didn't matter. Perhaps because there is nothing to remember.

You've always said that Henry was constantly looking at me. But while you were so busy spying on him you failed to see how I was never looking at him and how I was always looking at you.  

I don't know why it have been so hard to move on from you. Maybe because you were my first real love. Perhaps true love. Maybe because I didn't get my way. Maybe because I had to get over not one but two break up. Or just because I might have gone crazy with the moving on part and procrastinate it.

This concept of closure is odd to me and so is moving on. I don't how it should feel, so I'm not sure this is it. But I truly believe this is the time I allow myself to free from the ghost of yours.

Let it go, you probably would have said a while back if you actually remembered.

The day you won't haunt me anymore will be the day all is left from you will be our best memories.

You once ripped me into pieces so small I wasn't sure I still existed. 

I reconstructed myself now, built a wall to keep everyone on the outside. Protecting myself from feeling anything. Protecting myself from falling in love with someone else. Some one who would break me just like you did.

Now the story of us is having less importance than before and growing more urge to be done. And by that I mean this, Why We Broke Up.Maybe it's more about what went wrong than why we broke up. What we did wrong, how we screwed up. How we fucked up.

And now we're back to being only strangers, somebody that I used to know. Somebody that I used to love.