Photo via: Olga Astrog
Perhaps this is karma. I followed my heart, only to have it broken in pretty much the same way I broke someone else's. For two years. I was in a long distance relationship, which wasn't really going anywhere. I never really stopped to think about the future, even though he spoke of being with me, marrying me. I had a life in another country, and I only realised how little he meant to me when he began talking of taking out a loan to come study in the same country as me. Work part-time to pay off that loan, just so that he could be with me, since I couldn't come to be with him. I panicked - I had a different life, different friends. I didn't want him to come just because of me. Eventually he dropped the idea, but we would constantly fight about why I chose to study away from him. It was better for me and my career, but he couldn't see that and I got tired of having to justify it to him.
And then I met this boy, S - well I'd known him already for a year but we had never really hung out. Everyone was leaving for the summer, and he invited me out for drinks, since his usual gang of friends were not around. I was hesitant, and on the point of saying no, because I didn't really know him. But I said yes and I went. We had the best night out - it's hard to describe all that happened. But there was an instant connection and it just felt natural to be with him. Two days later, he dragged me along for last-minute shopping, and I watched him pack before we went out again. It was the most magical night! He left the next morning, and I spent all day feeling uneasy. It was not until he called to let me know he had reached home that I realised how badly I had been waiting for his call and that I was falling in love. In the meantime, my boyfriend (although I had long stopped considering him my boyfriend) said we should take a break, and I was relieved that I didn't have to be the bad person. I tried to reach out as a friend and make sure he was ok, but maybe I should have tried harder.
S and I spent the summer talking, knowing that we would be together again once we were back. When we met again at the end of summer, the first 15 days were perfect and I fell more and more in love - we both did, I know that for a fact. We moved in together, and somehow ended up fighting and hating each other. He turned to an ex for emotional support and shut me out. I had no idea how to fix things. The only thing that kept me going through all of it was the memory of those 15 days. I never gave up on us, even though he constantly tried to push me away. Somehow we made it through and were together for two years, in our own bubble. But then his course finished, and he left. That last night out before he left was again the most amazing night we had. We danced all night, and just as we sat down, exhausted and tired, the DJ played our song. We left the club singing loudly, just as it started to snow. That night I howled like a baby, realising he was leaving forever and he just held me. We made promises to see each other soon, and to tell each other everything, no matter what.
For the first few months, it worked. It wasn't perfect - we had our fights, but we had each other. I trusted him blindly, even when people questioned how I could be so confident about our love and what we had given that we were so far apart. Then I found out he was talking to his ex. She made sure I found out. For two months, they had been talking for hours at night, hanging out, taking photos with their arms around each other, and I had been clueless. He said she was just a good friend, he promised it wouldn't happen again, that he would stop. But that was another lie. Eventually he admitted that he liked talking to her, and that he couldn't stop. She messaged me saying they are dating, but he has denied that. They are friends on facebook now, his profile picture on facebook and whatsapp is one of the two of them, they talk all the time. He called me two days ago, drunk, admitting that he is wrong, and saying that he loves me. We haven't even broken up officially, but I don't know the next time we will talk. I don't know what I mean to him anymore, or if I mean anything at all. I'm just so confused. All I know is that I love him, and always will. I put my heart and soul into this relationship, I gave it all I had. And all I'm left with is a broken heart and the knowledge that whatever I did wasn't enough, that I wasn't enough for him. Perhaps this is karma for what I did to my ex.
And then I met this boy, S - well I'd known him already for a year but we had never really hung out. Everyone was leaving for the summer, and he invited me out for drinks, since his usual gang of friends were not around. I was hesitant, and on the point of saying no, because I didn't really know him. But I said yes and I went. We had the best night out - it's hard to describe all that happened. But there was an instant connection and it just felt natural to be with him. Two days later, he dragged me along for last-minute shopping, and I watched him pack before we went out again. It was the most magical night! He left the next morning, and I spent all day feeling uneasy. It was not until he called to let me know he had reached home that I realised how badly I had been waiting for his call and that I was falling in love. In the meantime, my boyfriend (although I had long stopped considering him my boyfriend) said we should take a break, and I was relieved that I didn't have to be the bad person. I tried to reach out as a friend and make sure he was ok, but maybe I should have tried harder.
S and I spent the summer talking, knowing that we would be together again once we were back. When we met again at the end of summer, the first 15 days were perfect and I fell more and more in love - we both did, I know that for a fact. We moved in together, and somehow ended up fighting and hating each other. He turned to an ex for emotional support and shut me out. I had no idea how to fix things. The only thing that kept me going through all of it was the memory of those 15 days. I never gave up on us, even though he constantly tried to push me away. Somehow we made it through and were together for two years, in our own bubble. But then his course finished, and he left. That last night out before he left was again the most amazing night we had. We danced all night, and just as we sat down, exhausted and tired, the DJ played our song. We left the club singing loudly, just as it started to snow. That night I howled like a baby, realising he was leaving forever and he just held me. We made promises to see each other soon, and to tell each other everything, no matter what.
For the first few months, it worked. It wasn't perfect - we had our fights, but we had each other. I trusted him blindly, even when people questioned how I could be so confident about our love and what we had given that we were so far apart. Then I found out he was talking to his ex. She made sure I found out. For two months, they had been talking for hours at night, hanging out, taking photos with their arms around each other, and I had been clueless. He said she was just a good friend, he promised it wouldn't happen again, that he would stop. But that was another lie. Eventually he admitted that he liked talking to her, and that he couldn't stop. She messaged me saying they are dating, but he has denied that. They are friends on facebook now, his profile picture on facebook and whatsapp is one of the two of them, they talk all the time. He called me two days ago, drunk, admitting that he is wrong, and saying that he loves me. We haven't even broken up officially, but I don't know the next time we will talk. I don't know what I mean to him anymore, or if I mean anything at all. I'm just so confused. All I know is that I love him, and always will. I put my heart and soul into this relationship, I gave it all I had. And all I'm left with is a broken heart and the knowledge that whatever I did wasn't enough, that I wasn't enough for him. Perhaps this is karma for what I did to my ex.
