The dreams come; carrying with them absolute and utter depression.
In my dreams, I am alone. Stumbling wildly drunk. I remember long phone calls and private jokes and whispers inked into skin. Once upon a time, I was the happy shiny girl who had everything, but there is much to be said about material possessions versus being truly happy, and I’m not quite sure which is which anymore.
I think there will be days when the words you type don’t quite make sense.
Sometimes, running away doesn’t mean escape.
I think, maybe, this is the beginning of a new chapter. I loved you but you didn’t love me and that’s OK. I’m OK with it.
Sometimes, you love and you lose. Sometimes, you win.
Today, I think I am the winner. I have removed you from my life, and in doing so, have removed the power you held over me.
Some may argue that this means so much of my life still revolves around you.
Maybe it does.
I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t have a sick fascination with the idea of your new girlfriend. What makes her so much better than me? What is it about her that makes you willing to do long distance the way you wouldn’t with me?
But these questions won’t bring closure, and I have my answer.
Sometimes, you love and sometimes you’re the one who’s loved.
There was a long time, when I thought you were perfect. Literally perfect, and I never felt enough for you. I still don’t feel enough for you. But I deserve more, and you deserve more, and I can say all I want and justify all I want to make myself feel better, or talk myself through this, but at the end of the day, we are who we are.
Being with you was one of the happiest times of my life. I was happy because I was with you, but through the sadness of leaving, through the fucked up mess I became after our relationship unravelled, I found a new strength, and I found a new love, and I found me.
In this moment, I am happy. I am happy and sad at the same time, and I finally get it. I am all or nothing, sure. But there is a beauty in knowing exactly what you want and giving all of yourself for that.
I hope you’re happy with her. I hope you make her happy. I hope she never feels the way you made me feel – like I was never enough.
If anything, I hope that the dissolution of our relationship and friendship has taught you to go wholeheartedly for the things you want. I hope that you’ve learnt that you can love the memory of a person, but not be in love with who they are today. I hope you know that I don’t hate you anymore, and I don’t blame you anymore. It took me a long time to escape the rambling mess that I was, to accept that it was my fault, and not yours that I became the numbed, drugged out shell of a girl, and to work up the courage to tell you what I’d done in an attempt to let you go.
I get all the zen sayings and yin-yang, and sadness and happiness and trying to talk myself through life shit now. I’ve died and I’ve come back. I’ve travelled through hell and found my little piece of peace.
You made me stronger, and everyday I look into the mirror, I see a little piece of you and a little piece of her, but mostly, I see who I’ve become and this woman that you didn’t want to know?
I love her most.
So yes, the dreams/memories bring with them haunting loneliness. They bring with them a heartbreaking scary of waking up not knowing who I am, but I’m done drinking to get drunk. Done smoking to die. Done trying to get high. I’ve embraced the pain and accepted acceptance; stepped out with my head held high.
And with the depression comes the knowledge that this suffering has broken me and built me up. Sometimes, fear will lead you to the places you were never meant to go, but sometimes, it will take you exactly where you’re meant to be.