Finding Light in a Breakup

When I heard from you, for the third time in the last year, that you did not want to live together, I wasn’t sure how I felt. I’ve heard it from you in different words before. This time you veiled your decision differently.

The first time you said that you want to leave, you added probably, I don’t know, and soon returned.

The second time, it happened as if it were serious. You said that we will not be together, and I believed.

But you were back again. And now, the third time, you began with an advertisement for living alone, and how wonderful it will be for both of us, after so many years, to live separately.

The word family had spread across the paper like ink that you accidentally brushed against with your sleeve. There was no point in trying to put it together, it simply won’t do.

This time I realized that this part of my life will be closed. The chapter will not be completed. The end will be open. The next chapter will soon start.

And I was glad. Our relationship was not perfect. But we rarely had fights, we were very close, spent much of our time together. We gave each other warmth, loved every opportunity to hug, told each other everything.

We had always been honest. Devoted. And I have always considered our honesty to be a magic spell that was keeping us together for so long.

I was still glad. Because now it was real freedom. And I don’t think that after a few games with my heart, I will be ready to look at myself in the mirror if I let you return to your former place in my life.

I am glad, and now I can do whatever I want — walk tirelessly, think uninterrupted, hear music in my mind, dream…

Now I can go crazy with my time at home. Sprawl on the bed, brew three cups of black tea in a row. Eat as much as I want. Not eat as much as I want. Write as much as I want. Stories and books. Now I will finally have plenty of time to finish the book.

My mind is trying to see every positive outcome of this. I want to feel as cool and independent as a movie hero. Like those unapologetic Cameron Diaz characters living in a beautiful cozy apartment and doing whatever they want…

But, what I appreciate more is the feeling of slow life, when I breathe freely and in no rush to go anywhere. I love the feeling of possibilities waiting outside my door. I love candles, the smell of my books, the light from my notebook, and the feel of a pen in my hand. I love getting lost in my stories for hours. And the feeling I get when I return.

There is light even in the darkest places. And I intend to find it.
I won’t let myself forget about the darkness, but I will scratch and swing until there is a spark, I will search and find and lose until I feel like home again.

I will feel lonely sometimes, but rarely. I will miss your smile, especially on the silent evening. But I will open the window and breathe fresh air, filled with surprises like life itself. New feelings are waiting for me there, and I hurry to them. Remaining honest with myself now.

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Previously published on “Hello, Love”, a Medium publication.

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