We dated for four years. He was the first person I ever fell in love with. At least, that’s how I say it at that time.
He was my universe, I was his.
There came a time when all insignificant mistakes in the past didn’t matter, it did not count. Because I came to realize that I was looking for someone like him all along.
But all those fancies only emanated at the first portion of the long relationship and it was indeed a long anguish.
Four years happened so fast. We were best friends, we fell in love. I was in college but I wasn’t naïve about feelings (or so I thought).
I started observing how my parents were so solid, so sweet and contented. They’ve had quarrels but at the end of the day, everything will get back to normal.
Though I used to think my father lack a sense of compassion when apologizing to my mom and I used to think that my mom was shouting a bit loud at my dad.
Until I truly understood how the fights candidly went when I’ve had experienced my own.
I didn’t know I was the jealous type until he said so. There is a fine line between being obsessed and being passionate I thought I was the latter. He knew I was just obsessed.
I wanted to be with him at all times. Our fights engrained from my past and a bit of his pride. I did not see that he was being shallow that time because I didn’t understand a thing then.
It’s like, I get what I get and work on it until he assents my apology. I didn’t know what I deserved, what I know is that I love him with all my heart and I wanted to be honest about everything. Naiveté, I guess.
He loathes me whenever I say something rough. It didn’t made sense sometimes when he’s fluent in vulgarity.
I was anxious of most things that might make him hate me but I love showing up and calling him when he’s upset with me. Something he became more agitated about.
I couldn’t sleep in the course of a fight, he can. I couldn’t eat, he can still go to random places with friends or exes.
People used to say that I was too secretive and that they couldn’t tell if I’m upset because I’m too cheerful.
Now, I cry in public, and I didn’t mind if my parents would hear me slamming things on the wall. And I always tend to take my anger out on people.
It’s suffering to have so much to give yet the person you love only cares about winning and resisting talking to you. He would say he wants to be alone for a moment, to think and reflect. But I didn’t understand it at the time.
Maybe because when he’d say he didn’t want to talk, I will always later find out that he was doing the things he couldn’t have done with my consent. I didn’t know what I’ve done.
I chose him and I wanted him to choose me. I love him even on the dark moments. I adore him even when he says something ruthless to me. He was my universe and I’ve always hoped I was his.
Unlike my father, he lacks further compassion when apologizing and I scream way louder than my mother.
But like my parents, we wanted to be with each other. So we tried to make it work. Little did I know that each fight would knock off a part of our relationship’s foundation and it will all be over some day.
The first time we broke up had tortured me on every second I breathed with it. I didn’t have any energy to move on. I didn’t want to move on.
Hence, I fought for it, showed all my love with all the strength I have congregated in the course of the relationship.
I asked him again and again and he throws me out again and again. But I know, under all that immodesty and despite his loutish opinions, he loved me. And that’s what I held on to. And in the end, he accepted.
Little did I know that each rejection would knock off a part of our relationship’s foundation as well.
It became a routine and every misery was predictable and ordinary. And I was always the depressed one. Yes, I know that I was because I have never said anything as cruel to him like what he’d said to me.
And I always make it easy for him to ask for forgiveness. And I have never done anything that would make him feel resentful or mistrustful of me. I lose sleep and I let him sleep soundly and just talk when he’s ready.
That four years gave me the most number of hyperventilation occurrences in my whole life living with an arrhythmic heartbeat.
I thought I’d somehow get tired of the unchanging mess but I didn’t.
He likes to test me in some situations that breaks my heart and I think it’s thoughtless and disbelieving.
I thought I’d have a turn-off point when he’d push my boundaries but it happened so many times and I still fought.
It didn’t even matter if people would tell me to leave him or if I get attention from other male friends. Without a doubt, I’d choose him.
Until I met someone weird.
Someone in the contrary. I have met some people affectionate of me even during the relationship but this one seem diverse.
He was persuasive and eager. He was patient and at the same time he couldn’t wait to come across me and I don’t plan on cheating and making an additional chaos to my life.
I wanted for this person to know me so he’d see that he won’t stand a chance. He knew every cheesy detail. I allowed him to judge me. I let him see even the ugly parts of me. I let him see myself the way I see me.
And no matter how problematical the circumstances are, he told me he needed me. It didn’t matter if I love the other person. He chose me, and irrelevantly, I was thrilled.
I became confused and I remembered how my mother told me that if I ever get confused, the person who’s responsible for it is the special one.
And I think there is no way that I would have moved on from my past relationship if I didn’t allow myself to know the other person as well.
If it was more intricate than that, it’s already cheating. And before you take a leap, think if the upshot is something you deserved, think if the other people deserved it. Think about the love counsels your parents gave you.
The first moments of the aftermath can either be unpleasant or horrible. Nothing in between.
And people will always think you have cheated. Everyone will. And maybe it is one form of it.
I would’ve continued to agonize myself, clench at the short-term bliss just to become more damaged if we didn’t break up. I was lucky that he agreed. Although it still gets me into thinking why didn’t he even asked for me to stay.
I swore that if I ever broke my four year relationship, it would take forever for me to start dating again but it only took me 2 weeks.
I wanted to have the uprightness to be alone.
But I could not stand losing someone who might give me what I lack. I am just that egocentric and self-indulgent by nature.
It was harder at first because I wanted to take control. But it gets better.
But I needed to be loved and he needed to show it. When I wanted to show my love, I was overruled. And I know how terrible that atmosphere is.
I was grateful that he accepts my love in spite of my undertakings. And I realized how immature it was, to have made a prison out of myself.
I didn’t know that a man could look past my flaws. I used to think it was a women’s attribute.
He tells me that I’m strong and kind. He answers my calls, he laughs at my silliness, he smiles at my awkwardness. Most of all, my heart beat is normal now.
I realize now, it’s tolerable whatever I’ve been through. Though I almost did settled for less when there is so much more. So much more that this one person is giving me and I feel afar on a doubt that this is love.
This love was different. I feel free and significant and we are all worthy of this kind of love.
Written by Gio Astrud Modesto