From love to letting go

Chapter 5: The Long Journey of Suffering

Detailed Account of the 2.5 Years of Emotional Pain 

To truly convey the depth of the emotional turmoil I endured for 2.5 years, it's essential to delveinto the constant ache that permeated my existence. The most excruciating aspect was thesheer relentlessness of missing her. Every waking moment was a battle against the tide ofmemories that threatened to overwhelm me.

From the moment she blocked me, I was plunged into a sea of uncertainty and despair. Augustmarked the beginning of a relentless storm that would batter me for months on end. The painwas so intense that it felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard tobreathe. I remember the first night vividly—the disbelief, the shock, the desperate hope that itwas all a mistake. But as days turned into weeks, the harsh reality set in: she was gone, and Iwas left to navigate the wreckage of my shattered heart alone.

The initial phase after she left was nothing short of traumatic. I was in a state of denial, unableto accept that she had really left me. Every night was a struggle; panic attacks would jolt meawake, and I would frantically check my phone, hoping against hope for a message from her.Sometimes, I was so convinced she was right beside me that I would reach out, only to be metwith the cold emptiness of my bed. The nights were the worst—dark, silent, and suffocating. Icried myself to sleep, clutching my pillow and wishing it were her. 

As time passed, the acute pain began to dull, but the sense of loss remained. It was as if a partof me had been amputated, and I was left to figure out how to live without it. The days blendedinto each other, a monotonous cycle of waking up, going through the motions, and collapsingback into bed, exhausted from the effort of pretending to be okay. I found myself constantlywondering what could have been, imagining how different life would be if she were still with me. 

For the rest of those 2.5 years, the ache of missing her was a constant companion. It was as ifher absence had carved out a permanent void in my heart, one that nothing could fill. I wouldfind myself lost in thought, replaying our moments together—the way she smiled, the sound ofher laughter, the warmth of her embrace. Each memory was a bittersweet reminder of what Ihad lost.

How You Coped with Day-to-Day Life? 

Coping with day-to-day life was an immense challenge. I had to find ways to keep myselfoccupied, to distract my mind from the constant pain. One of the ways I did this was by takinglong walks. These walks became a form of therapy for me. I would set out with no particulardestination in mind, just letting my thoughts guide me. Often, I would walk for miles, lost in thelabyrinth of my own mind, reflecting on the past and grappling with my emotions.

These solitary walks were both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, they provided amuch-needed escape from the suffocating confines of my home, where every corner held amemory of her. On the other hand, they gave me ample time to ruminate on my loss. Despitethis, I found solace in the rhythm of my footsteps and the changing scenery. It was a way toprocess my grief, one step at a time.

To further distract myself, I immersed myself in work and creative pursuits. I threw myself intomy job, using it as a means to stay busy and keep my mind occupied. Drawing, in particular,became a crucial outlet for my emotions. I would lose myself in the act of creating, pouring mypain and longing into each stroke of the pencil. Art allowed me to express what words could not,to give form to the swirling emotions inside me. 

Traveling also became a passion. I embarked on numerous treks and trips, seeking solace inthe beauty of nature. These journeys offered a temporary reprieve from my grief, allowing me tofocus on the present moment rather than the past. I would stand at the edge of a mountain or bya tranquil lake, feeling a sense of peace that eluded me in my everyday life. Yet, even in thesemoments of serenity, I couldn't help but wish she were there with me, sharing the experience.

Despite these efforts, the memories of her remained ever-present. Every beautiful landscape,every new place I visited, was tinged with a sense of what could have been. I would catchmyself daydreaming about how she would react to the view, what she would say, how she wouldsmile. These thoughts were bittersweet, a reminder of the joy we once shared and theemptiness that now filled my life.

Attempts to Move On and Why They Didn't Work 

I made numerous attempts to move on, to find a way to live in the present rather than the past.But each attempt was met with limited success. The primary obstacle was the memories Icouldn't let go of—the moments we shared, the love we had. They were like ghosts, hauntingme no matter how hard I tried to exorcize them from my mind.

I made numerous attempts to move on, to find a way to live in the present rather than the past.But each attempt was met with limited success. The primary obstacle was the memories Icouldn't let go of—the moments we shared, the love we had. They were like ghosts, hauntingme no matter how hard I tried to exorcize them from my mind. 

I also considered dating someone new, thinking it might help me move on. But this turned out tobe a misguided and ultimately painful attempt. I found myself comparing every potential partnerto her, looking for her features in other faces. It was an exercise in futility, and it only served toremind me of what I had lost. I realized that I was not truly interested in these new relationships;I was merely trying to fill the void she had left behind.

 I also considered dating someone new, thinking it might help me move on. But this turned out tobe a misguided and ultimately painful attempt. I found myself comparing every potential partnerto her, looking for her features in other faces. It was an exercise in futility, and it only served toremind me of what I had lost. I realized that I was not truly interested in these new relationships;I was merely trying to fill the void she had left behind.

A significant turning point came from a piece of advice a friend gave me: "You have loved her alot, so the amount of love you had for her is the amount of time it's going to take you to moveon." This resonated deeply with me. It made sense that such a profound love would leave alasting impact, and that healing would be a gradual process. I started to embrace this idea,allowing myself the time and space to grieve properly.

As time passed, I began to focus on personal growth and self-care. I started attending therapy,which provided a safe space to explore my feelings and gain insights into my emotional state.Therapy helped me understand that it was okay to feel the way I did, that my grief was a naturalresponse to a significant loss. It also taught me coping mechanisms to deal with theoverwhelming emotions that would often surface.

I also invested more time in hobbies and activities that brought me joy. I reconnected with oldfriends, took up new interests, and continued to travel. These activities didn't erase the pain, butthey provided moments of respite, glimpses of a life beyond the grief. I began to see that whilethe pain might never fully disappear, it didn't have to dominate my existence.

In the end, the journey of suffering taught me valuable lessons about resilience and the humancapacity for healing. It showed me the importance of allowing myself to feel, to grieve, and totake the time needed to heal. It taught me that moving on is not about forgetting or replacing thepast, but about integrating the experience into my life and finding ways to live fully despite thepain. 

Writing this chapter, I am still very much in the process of healing. I haven't moved oncompletely, but I have learned to live with the loss. I know she is happy without me, and thatknowledge brings me some peace. We still exchange messages occasionally, and while itsometimes rekindles the old pain, it also reassures me that she is okay.

In conclusion, the 2.5 years of suffering were a long and arduous journey, marked by profoundpain and gradual healing. I tried many ways to move on, but ultimately, it was the acceptance ofmy grief and the dedication to personal growth that helped me find a semblance of peace. Thememories of her are still with me, and they probably always will be. But I am learning to carrythem with grace, allowing them to coexist with new experiences and joys. This journey has beentransformative, teaching me the depths of my own strength and the resilience of the humanheart.