Having someone leave you through choice is a bitter pill to swallow – worse than swallowing a whole manor of other things I could think of like…..
Lemsip. You are all so funny and gross. I know what you were thinking.
The fourteen year old inside me didn’t want to tell anyone the truth, pretending it was a mutual decision to anyone who didn’t witness me lying in bed like a walrus, surrounded by starburst wrappers and kleenex.
The truth is love in your late teens can be hard, and it can be at any age. It’s such an awkward time where there’s a real possibility that you may go the long haul but also a much larger chance one of you will be buggering off to find yourself in Bali, and will come home and refuse to wear shoes or something. Relationships at this stage in our lives come up against a lot. Insecurities, the big ‘who am I’ and the ‘what do I want in life’ worries flying around. Throw in one of you leaving for university and snap chat, you’ve got a struggle on your hands. All of these new changes makes holding your relationship together within this age group so difficult.
I was living in Dorset and my ex in London and I felt inadaquate. He was making short films and I was making short work of a jaffacake packet on a Tuesday night. Pushing my feelings of failure aside I thought I would try and make a life to suit his. I would live in London, prehaps do a make up artistry course and then I’d feel better. But why was I planning all of this? I love the city, but I don’t want to live there and I don’t want to do peoples make up all day no more than I want a wine allergy. Love will make you think about doing crazy things however your heart loves you more than it loves anyone so it will check back in with you eventually and try to steer you in the right direction.
Following spending Christmas with each others families it was time for him to go back to London. As you can imagine I was pretty upset. No one wants to be away from the person they wish to spend their time with. We parted ways that day in January and I’ve never seen him since. The odd random call from him and sparadic texting aside (from me) that was it. Closure is an import part of any chapter in ones life and when you’re denied of getting it you need to make your own, and that takes time.
There are some comforts that seem to help in the first stages of breakup but not many. Mine were of course red wine because it really does bring me some happiness, friends re runs and thinking about loosing a stone because then he’ll want me back and I’ll say no. Completely lying of course, when you’re this distraught you will of course take him back so it really is a good thing he’s not returned your calls or texts.
People might tell you to get under someone to get over it or even that if you were really in love you’d still be together but you and I know better than that. Not all love stories last a life time, some only a weekend but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take part in them. Leave having learnt something, with a good memory (once you’ve finished hating the twat of course) and the self confidence to believe that the world is making things right for you even if you don’t know it. All will fall into place.
One day you wake up and realise it’s been 40 minutes since they crossed your mind. This then turns into 4 hours, and eventually 4 months. The body knits your broken self back together and the scars that are left start fading away whilst you apply copious amounts of bio oil (which is a euthamism for Malbec if you were wondering but you can use water, green juice, tea what ever works). The real key to getting over somone is time and being patient and kind to yourself as it ticks on. A long bath and a good candle doesn’t go a miss either.
Eventually someone turns up in your life, more often than not it’s yourself, that teaches you how to be happy again. Love is scary and that’s really a good thing because usually nothing worth having comes risk free.
Lots of love,