Writer with a strange name

9 months after the break-up, I still feel heartbroken.

I once thought that being alone and never having some love you was the worst kind of emotional pain you could experience. Until I experienced what loss of love was. I wish I could say it was a dramatic break-up. It wasn’t. It happened with the silent nod of a head, a soft caress of a cheek, one tear and the sight of an oh-so-familiar back walking away. I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces in just one solemn moment. Even as I remember it, my heart aches. It was 6 months ago when I first started writing this blog post. The end of this month will be the 9th month. It hasn’t gotten any easier…. yet.

No one really warns you about the small reminders.

A yellow car
A pokemon ball
My dog
Two dogs
30+ songs
One station
20+ outfits

Even as I write this I feel a gaping hole worse than the emptiness that I had clung to for so long. These are the stages I experienced that no one ever told me, or warned me about. Sometimes I think it might have been easier if I had just stayed alone. Have you ever felt that feeling? Have you ever longed for something you once lost? It’s hard to go back to normal. Learning to cope and remembering who you were before this person is essential but difficult. Self-love is reminding yourself you are more than what your relationship was. However, this comes is steps or stages as mentioned above. These are the stages I have and still, am going through.

Stage 1: Denial
At first, I suppressed the emotions. I was in denial about what had happened. I couldn’t believe he walked away so easily without looking back. From me? The person who said I was his everything. Despite knowing it was coming, despite it being an agreed decision. I really could not believe that he accepted it so easily. I called, I sent text messages, Instagram messages and even stalked his snap chat. All types of social media. You name it, I was on there. I didn’t want to believe what had just happened.  I was in a dazed trance that I couldn’t seem to escape from.

Stage 2:  Pain
I remember calling my best friend. The moment I heard her voice, it was like a turret had been turned on and there was no off switch. This was not the pretty crying that made men fawn over the endless Hollywood actress’. Oh dear lord no, this was the ugly, chest heaving, dried snot, creased face, soul-wrenching sobs that you think would be reserved for a loss that could only be bestowed by the grim-reaper him (or her) self. I couldn’t see a way out. It was unbearable and everything thing I looked at, everything I used or listened to was a trigger.  I cried looking at the bathtub in my house. I cried looking at my duvet covers, the last present he bought me, flowers, Hershey’s kisses. Anything remotely familiar. I felt as though I had been stabbed through the heart and tossed aside. My heart was in pieces.

Raygo stab

Stage 3: Despair

I started to think that I would never be in love again. That no one could ever possibly love me the way he did. Could know me, or accept the heavy burdens I had to carry. I despaired over the possibility of being along and hid it under the facade of ‘I’m ready to move on’. I stared at passers-by in the hope that I would see a glimpse of interest in me. Was I still attractive? Do men look at me? What do they think when they look at me? Despairation for reaffirmation that I could mean something, anything to someone again.


 Now stage 4 and 5, seemed to go hand in hand for me. Unable to distinguish between the two stages, blurred into one suffocating haze of mental repudiation. Desperately trying to find another relationship that gave me the same highs as my previous one. It was the only thing on my mind. Convinced that I was making progress, I failed to see that I was simply pretending to be okay. 

Stage 4: Attempting to move on/ the rebound.
I thought I was ready. 9 months on and I felt that an acceptable amount of time had passed. I couldn’t dwell on what could have been. I was craving affection that I once had, hoping that it could be regained elsewhere. Too blind by the sight of many couples around me, desperate to have what seemed to come easily to them. I attempted online dating, lowered my standards, went the extra mile for a guy who screamed “RED FLAG”. All in the pursuit of finding a relationship because I could not come to terms with being alone and be honest with myself. I was rebounding, hoping that I could fall in love again quickly and have my broken heart mended by someone who would sweep me off my feet. It was not to be.

Stage 5: Pretending
I have been pretending that I am okay for some time now. It is all too familiar for someone who has suffered from depression. A reflex if you must call it.
Sometimes there is not a strict order to things.  Sometimes everything merges into one. I was pretending for the sake of my family, my brothers, friends and myself. I did not what to feel the painful aching in my chest. Yet this seemed to completely backfire, everyone thought I was coping… moving on so to speak. As if 9 months was an acceptable time frame that you should have completely gotten over such a ‘jerkface’ like him. So I felt I had no other choice to pretend. To put on a brave face. ‘Fake it, ’till you make it’ that used to be my favorite saying to give myself ridiculous amounts of confidence and I could use it again. I think everyone pretends to be okay, regardless of whether it’s from a break-up or a job that we hate. It’s the most human coping mechanism there is. Like the symbolic drama faces that represent both comedy and tragedy. It is both comedic and tragic that we as humans are unable to present are true emotions in the face of adversity.

Stage 6: Longing
I long to be okay again.
I long to be loved again.
I long to be normal.
I long to see his face.
I long to go back to what we once had.
I long to no longer be reminded of him in everything I do.
I genuinely long for me to move on.
I genuinely long for me to be done with these emotions.

Longing to move .gif

Stage 7: ??
This is my current stage, the jury is still out on what I am feeling within my heart. All I can say is that I feel cold. I have built up walls that dwarf the great wall of China, impenetrable and automated to shut out anyone who attempts to get close. Two days ago, a co-worker of mine uttered these words “don’t worry hun, I’m sure you’ll find someone when you least expect it”. She assumed this was the reason for my dazed and unamused expression. Contrary to this, I was more concerned about my lack of direction in life. I want no more stress nor pain. I would rather be alone to suffer a similar fate or affliction such as an addiction to love.  The love I want to find is within myself, as I have mentioned before in my earlier post ‘it’s okay to be alone’. In truth it is, but as humans, it is a hard pill to swallow, as I am learning myself. Now I aspire to be an ice-queen in regards to relationships but learning to have love within myself before I can give or receive it.

love yourself.gif

Heartbreak is a feeling like no other. It is a flurry of emotions that is indescribable at times yet so clear and crisp at others. I try to remind myself that if a love was meant to last it would have. If a relationship was destined to be forever, then nothing would have torn it apart. Sometimes, it is easier to accept less than what we are worth in relationships from a lack of self-love, or for fear of never finding love again. Beloved’s,  you deserve more than mediocrity in love. Knowing this information, it is still okay to feel a loss when mediocre love ends. You give your heart to someone in the hopes that they will treasure it with care. You give time, energy, love, touch, commitment, affection to one person, and suddenly after a year, it is over.  It takes time to heal, and I have learned it is okay to heal.

“You made me suffer a lot, but you will bring me back from this deep pit and give me a new life”. – Psalm 71:20 

4 Responses to “9 months after the break-up, I still feel heartbroken.”

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