What My Breakup Taught Me – II

“Life is a shipwreck but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.”


Phase I: Regret

“Wake up”, said a faint voice from a distance. “Wake up”, my mom tapped my shoulder. “We’re back home!”

A part of me did not care about the fact that I had an amazing vacation, that I got to recompense for the lost time with my parents, that I could not wait to go back home and tell my friends all about it. A part of me was stuck on a loop, with an innate desire to go back to a certain instant, and relive with the hope of a possible change. And this time, I knew exactly what that moment was. But what hurt me more than the fact that I could not blame it on oblivion and make peace, was the fact that I could not make it happen, and I could not witness the Butterfly effect, even if I traded it with my conscious existence.

I could not go back to where it all started.

But right now, I had the power. The power to express. I found myself back in my room. My own room with my own things. Things that would never betray me in my most vulnerable form. And I cried. I cried a lot. I cried till the moment I was exhausted of doing so, and I lied on my bed, staring at the slowly moving wings of the ceiling fan.

How do we always land up in the exact same scenario?

The first phase is regret. Why did I immediately date someone after a bad breakup? What was I possibly thinking? Why did I not give myself some time to heal and have interest in knowing myself before I decided to know a stranger? My head was clouded with questions.

Should I call him again? Of course, I did not. If there was any precaution that had to be taken in order to not make me feel worse than I already did, it was crucial that I actually took it. “We broke up”, I texted my best friend. “What? Seriously?” “Yeah, he just texted me he doesn’t love me anymore.” “Aw it’s okay, trust me you’ll have better days than these.” And they proceeded to give me virtual hugs, but something about them didn’t seem so virtual. It was the welcoming feeling, that despite the physical and technological barriers that existed, I have someone who might, just might, care for me forever.

“Thank you, I really needed that”, I texted back.

The regret phase is the toughest of all the phases, and it is quite understandable why. This is when you pity yourself for letting yourself go through this, and desperately wish things to go back to what you and your now-wounded soul considered “normal”. But of course, it is a very significant phase as in order to build back, you need to break down.

Meditation helped me in this phase, but it might not work for you. Try finding something that would help the weight of all your thoughts and questions lessen. For me, I could not help but wonder about the fact that perhaps it would have gotten worse. That, I was freed from whatever grave that could have followed if this had not happened.

Of course, I cried myself to bed, with my eyes open, and pondering not over if tomorrow would be hard or not, but over how hard it would be.

Phase II: Removal

A painful heartache woke me up at nine in the morning. This cannot be happening.  But now that it did, I had to do something about it.

I had to remove him.

Apart from restricting myself from his social media profiles, I deleted all of his texts and emails anywhere and everywhere. But that was not the most challenging part. The most challenging part was deleting our pictures and the songs in my playlist, sent from him. The time when we went to the beach with our friends, the time when we aimlessly wondered around in one of our mundane college evenings, the time when he told me about his favourite band and sent me one of their songs, which was most liked by him.

All of it was about to leave, and howsoever hard and terrifying it was to me, it had to be done. After I removed him from my device, there was a feeling of emptiness in me. But now I realize that it was not a feeling of emptiness but the feeling of finally having freedom. To do exactly what I wanted. So, I stripped down to my night robes and watched Magic Mike because being absolutely cliché does not hurt once in a while.

And well, after watching that, maybe being single in this world is not all that harsh after all.

To be continued.


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