The Day I Lost Him, I Found Myself

 Author's Note:

This is an old piece that I wrote and originally published on 4th August 2014. A decade later, I found myself revisiting these words, memories, and emotions. Reading what I had written back then felt like opening an old diary, a reminder of the person I was, the pain I carried, and the lessons I learned along the way. I have refined and rewritten parts of it for my blog, but I have tried to preserve the honesty and emotions of the younger version of myself who first put these thoughts into words.

"Some memories do not disappear with time; they simply become quieter. They stop hurting every day, but they continue reminding us of who we once were."

As I tossed and turned on my king-sized bed last night, fighting a battle with sleep that refused to come, a strange thought crossed my sleep-deprived mind: perhaps it was time to start writing little pieces of my life. Not grand stories, not carefully crafted fiction, but fragments of memories, emotions, mistakes, lessons, and moments that shaped the person I am today.

And here I am, sitting in front of my laptop, staring at the blank screen, wondering where to begin.

Since my childhood days, whenever I picked up a pen and poured my thoughts onto paper, the theme of love somehow found its way into my writing. Perhaps because love has always been the most complicated yet beautiful emotion I have experienced. It has given me some of the happiest moments of my life, while also teaching me some of the hardest lessons.

You do not have to play the guessing game because I will tell you exactly what this piece is about: how my last breakup changed my life forever.

24th July 2013 will always remain a significant date in the diary of my life. It was the day I deliberately played with my own love story. Looking back now, I sometimes wonder how someone who once loved so deeply could become the very reason behind destroying that love.

At that time, my relationship had become a constant battle between my heart and my responsibilities. I loved him, but I also loved my parents deeply. The fear of losing their trust and disappointing them slowly became heavier than the happiness I found in my relationship. Every moment I spent with him made me feel like I was drifting further away from the people who had sacrificed everything for me.

Instead of finding a way to balance both worlds, I chose an escape.

I decided to destroy what I had.

I had already created a plan in my mind. I knew how I wanted to create distance between us. I wanted the relationship to end, but I did not dare to face him and say the words aloud. So, I chose a path that would hurt both of us.

Fortunately, destiny placed me away from home during a workshop. During that trip, I happened to meet a childhood male friend. He invited me for dinner at his place, and as we sat together talking about life, I accidentally opened up about my struggles. I shared my fears, my confusion, and the emotional storm that was taking place inside me.

Perhaps he sensed my vulnerability. Perhaps he simply wanted to help. But that night, he volunteered to take up the role of another person in my life, someone who could help me escape from the relationship that had become a burden in my mind.

That night changed everything.

I switched off my phone and took shelter at his place, completely cutting myself away from the person who was desperately trying to reach me.

While I was carefully weaving a plan to ruin my love life, the man I claimed to love was searching for me. He called my phone repeatedly. When there was no response, he contacted my colleagues to find out where I was.

When I finally returned, he was waiting with countless questions.

Where were you?

Why didn't you answer my calls?

What happened?

But silence was the only answer I could give.

Not because I had nothing to say, but because I knew no explanation could justify my actions.

Slowly, everything began falling apart. The person who once brought so much happiness into my life started seeking comfort in intoxicants, while I became colder and more distant with every passing day. I watched someone I loved slowly break, and yet I continued pretending that ending the relationship was the right thing to do.

Eventually, he found someone else. A few months later, we officially ended our relationship.

Life became easier in some ways. I regained my parents' trust. The constant guilt of feeling like I was disappointing them slowly faded. From the outside, everything appeared peaceful.

But inside, I was fighting a battle of my own.

The memories haunted me.

The things I had done, the pain I had caused, and the person I had become during that phase of my life followed me everywhere. There were nights when I questioned my choices. I had achieved what I thought I wanted, but I had lost something that could never truly be replaced.

They say breaking up with someone you love is like experiencing death.

I understand that now.

The moment he left, a part of me died with him. Since then, I have continued breathing, living, working, and smiling, but a small part of my heart remains in that chapter of my life.

Yet, life has a beautiful way of teaching us that even broken hearts can find happiness again.

I find immense joy watching sunsets. I smile when I sing nursery songs. I find comfort in little things that others may consider ordinary. Perhaps these are the tiny pieces of my past that continue to remind me of the person I once was.

Those little memories never fail to bring a smile to my face.

I have lived.

I have loved.

I have lost.

And I have learned.

Today, I do not carry anger. I do not carry resentment. Instead, I carry gratitude.

Gratitude for the beautiful moments we shared. Gratitude for the lessons he unknowingly taught me. Gratitude for the person I became because of that experience.

I do not know when I will fall in love again. Maybe someday someone will walk into my life and create a new chapter. Or maybe this chapter of love was the one that was meant to shape me.

Whatever happens, I will always be thankful for the time I shared with him.

Because some people are not meant to stay forever. Some people enter our lives to teach us, to change us, and to leave behind memories that remain long after they are gone.

I may never hold his hand again, but I will always hold the beautiful moments we created together.

And for that, I will never regret a single moment.

A note from today:

Looking back at these words, I no longer see only the pain of losing someone I loved. I see a younger version of myself trying to understand love, family, choices, and consequences. She made mistakes, but she also learned, healed, and grew. Some stories are not meant to be rewritten; they are meant to remind us of how far we have travelled.