Moving on is very strange. All these chokeholds that another person had on me has suddenly disappeared. I can remember the desire, to touch him, to smell him, to trace his body, his skin, his outline. He was my air. The warmth of his skin lingers at the tips of my finger so vividly, it feels like I was just with him.  

The memory is like the muffled sound of music leaking in from the next room: quiet, yet you can’t un-notice it once you notice it.

I needed him as he had become apart of me. When he first left, I couldn’t handle it. My whole world was shattered. How was I going to swim without my life jacket? 

I didn’t know what to do since I lived for other people at the time. I had no dreams or aspirations, no hobbies, and no curiosities. I needed others to breathe life into my body.

Everyday turned into the same day: wake up, smoke, eat, smoke, do something productive, smoke. I was a shell of a human.  

I couldn’t face all the feelings I was running from. It was years and years of built up trauma. Years of shoving everything behind the closet door and pretending like nothing was wrong. If I opened that door, who knows what I would find or what would spill out. I’m sure there was so much that not even I remember all the things that hurt me. 

Now, in the silence, my mind has started to wander. My gaze has shifted to the closet door. 

What could I possibly be running away from?

I’ve already gone through my childhood. I already gave up my virginity. I already tried the drugs and got high. I already got broken up with. I’ve gone through all the scariest parts, so what do I have to run away from? 

Am I really going to let a memory scare me into a life of misery? No thanks! 

I think my final piece of closure was my ex admitting that he’s moved on from the relationship. When he told me that, it felt like I got shot in the chest with a double-barrel shotgun. My mouth went dry, the ground opened up from beneath my feet, and I felt that same deafening pain coming back. 

It was officially over.

Then, I heard a bird chirp. And a car drive by. I felt the suns rays still shining on me. 

The world didn’t explode. 

The sky was still blue. 

He didn’t love me, but somehow I was still alive. 

It took a couple days for this new reality to sink in and touch the deepest parts of my heart, but I did eventually accept it.

And, fuck, it hurts.

We loved each other and we grew together and there is value in that. Just because we couldn't make it work in the end doesn't mean it wasn’t worth it at all. 

I think thats what made moving on so difficult: after the relationship we both grew a lot. We both stayed friends, and if we could stay friends we could work as a couple, right? 

The more time he spent with me the more I began dream. 

But of course, I had to ask him: “Have you fully moved on yet?” 

At some point, the loneliness turned into a friend and I was able to sit with her, question her, and probe her, and she did the same with me: all of the unspoken fears, the forgotten trauma, the invisible strongholds that had been planted in me when I was a child were brought into the light and I learned that these were what I feared.

I didn’t have to fear living and the things that make a life colorful.

I didn’t have to fear the life that was waiting to be freed by me.

Luckily, life is a balance between the good and the bad and I just had to learn to find that middle ground.

When I learned how to break away from the boxes I had trapped myself in, I found a freedom that I never knew before. I don’t have to be the best at something. I don’t have to know anything for sure. I just have to take it one day at a time. As long as I’m moving forward I can say that I never gave up. 

And when you never give up, you have the opportunity to look back and be proud of yourself.

This may be a heavy first-blog-post but it's been something that's been on my heart for a long time. What are your experiences with heartbreak and how did you get over it?

If you are in the midst of a heart break journey, take it easy. You're not alone :)