It’s weird and funny how even after years of breaking up with someone that people still tell me snippets of information about him… I guess until I enter into a new relationship or get married the vine of information would always find its way to me.
I wonder about it sometimes — and to the people around me this is what I want to say…
1.) Believe it or not — l have moved on. When before I used to hang on to every word of information about him, analyzing and grasping on every detail because I refuse to let him be a stranger to me, now I have accepted the fact that he is just part of my past…
2.) Do you pity me? Please don’t – at certain gatherings of mutual friends, people would ask me “how are you?” with a tone and facial expression clearly asking more than just how am I doing. Dear friends I am fine, please don’t feel sorry for me, yes I have been broken but I have healed.
3.) l am not bitter— I am honestly not… If I may seem nonchalant about news that I am hearing it is because there just is no other way to react. I have no right to comment and frankly (l know some of you would think this as ‘bitterness’) it is not my business to. We live separate lives now and on rare occasions that our paths do meet — a cursory glance, a nod of acknowledgement or at the most, an awkward smile is all we can really share because the thing with broken romantic relationships is – it is almost impossible to remain friends.
4.) I am my own person — I wonder where this thing of referring to a person as ‘someone’s ex’ came from. I feel that the term defines me based on the broken relationship and invalidates me as a person, forever putting me in the shadow of something that I have overcome. Whatever I do or do not do is not a reflection of that broken relationship but of me living my life. My friends I have healed and am ready to fly, please don’t put me in the chains of the past and allow me to soar.
“Past is past” someone once said, and memories fade if not forgotten only to resurface at the most curious of times — like finding something you own hidden at the bottom of an old box collecting dust up in the attic. It brings a smile to your face as you remember how much you loved and cherished it, the thoughts linger but you pack it up again and move on — thankful for that part of your life.