I debated on whether or not I actually wanted to post a piece about this topic, because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to put how I was feeling out there and make myself vulnerable to the public and my friends. Mostly my friends though.
I decided to write this piece because before I broke up with him, I went to the internet to find writings on what happened to other couples when they broke up, and sadly there weren’t any. I wanted to know if the sadness would go away after a while, and how long it would take. I wanted to know if they were scared, too; and what they were scared of. I wanted to know if I was being rational, if it was what I should do. I had so many questions and no one to ask. So here is my contribution to anyone else that might be terrified like I was.
Cameron and I dated for 3 1/2 years. We started when I was only 16 and he was 17. We dated until I was 19 and he was 21, and we both grew up a lot in the time that we dated, and it was almost as if we grew up in two completely different directions.
We had both gone on vacations to meet each others families. Last summer I went to Newfoundland for two weeks, and the summer before that he came to my family reunion (for those of you who don’t know me, my grandparents had 18 children, so my family reunion consists of 6 days and a lot of people) and also stayed at my cottage with me for a week. We had plans for our future, wedding, children, pets, everything. When I made the decision to leave him, I made the decision to throw all of my life plans in the wind and live life completely unaware of what will happen in my future.
That was absolutely terryifing to me.
Since I was a child, I’ve had my life completely planned out. I’ve always known exactly what I’ve wanted to do with my life and I’ve done everything I can to keep my life on that track and going in that direction. I’ve never given my life to chance or thrown something to the wind.
When Cameron and I broke up, we were both very upset. We both cried, we both hugged, and it felt strange not to kiss him goodbye before leaving his house for the first time in three and a half years.
I was upset for many days. Just because I broke up with him doesn’t mean that I wasn’t saddened by it. I cried a lot, especially when I thought about the good times we had, my future, and how now I’ve got nothing planned. I got scared. Scared of being alone, scared of not following my plan. I missed him at night when I would sleep alone, and I missed him on days that I sat at home without him. We used to spend almost every day together, and then we spent none together.
But despite all of the sadness, I was also happy.
I learned who my friends were. The ones who stuck around. The ones who asked me how I was doing every time I saw them. The ones who hung out with me on days that I was feeling down. The ones that understood that just because I made the decision to leave him, doesn’t mean that it wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
After being single for a while, I’m still scared. I still miss it. I miss having a second family, and travelling with him, and just being with him. But I wouldn’t go back. I’m happy, and I know he is, too. We did not fit together anymore, and we both agreed on that.
It got better. And it gets better. I’m growing into a person that I feel is exactly who I am supposed to be. We were holding each other back from becoming those people. When you’re tied to someone, you sort of grow up with them, but him and I were so not the same that our growing up didn’t really happen together. It’s still weird not being with him, but I don’t really miss him. You know that feeling when you go into your room and someone moved everything two inches to the left? That’s how I feel about my life. My life has been moved two inches to the left. Not backwards or forwards, just over a little bit onto a different path.
But all in all, I like the way that my room looks with everything two inches to the left.