Two thousand and eighteen.
This time last year, I wrote this much earlier in January and had a clear idea of what to write down... and I was in a much better headspace. It is now September in 2019 and I’ve only decided to finish this post today.
Where do I begin? 2018 was a year of mixed feelings. But mostly one main feeling - heartbreak.
I have to say, a lot of my year revolved around the feelings of sadness and loneliness. I spent a lot of late nights scrolling through endless quotes related to “moving on”, “heartbreak”, and “letting go”, while listening to those songs that make the memories flood back as I clutch my chest and wonder how something like that could ever make it hurt this much. I don’t know why I do it to myself, honestly. I’ve kind of always thought it was good for me - yknow, to get those feelings out. However, I also thought I was strong and self-assured enough to never feel this thing called “heartbreak”. But I guess nobody is immune to it.
I hate that my 2018 reflection started with him, but ultimately, I have to be honest and say that it did take up a good chunk of my year. And almost a year since I decided to walk away, I still have so much pain. I thought to myself, surely you were the one who walked away, you were the one who ended it, surely it wouldn’t be so bad. But I was wrong. Because the circumstances were different. I walked away not because I didn’t love him anymore or he didn’t love me anymore but because it was the right thing to do. For the both of us. And what I learned from that is that no matter what way we looked at it, love isn’t enough. He didn’t want me to go and he didn’t tell me he no longer loved me but he also didn’t fight for me. But yet somehow, I still have so many questions - “were all his feelings for me actually real?”, “is he thinking about me?”, “does he miss me?”, “is there someone new?”. He still consumes my thoughts. Sometimes it’s because of a whiff of someone else’s cologne that I mistake for his, sometimes because of a song playing in the car, or because of a particular place I drive by, or simply, an item of clothing I see in my closet.
I don’t know how to explain it, but a part of me is so ready to be over him and the other part is holding onto those feelings and words for dear life. I felt that getting over him would be a waste of all those emotions and feelings. But maybe, I’m just afraid. Afraid that maybe I’ll never feel like that again and that if I get over him, that that would be it. We would have no more chances, not like we actually have a chance, but I continued to hope. Last year, I began to understand people who said that they couldn’t love again. I never fully understood these people and I used to scoff and roll my eyes but now I get it. I so get it. I am not interested in getting to know someone and “falling in love”. I clearly can’t make my mind up, is it that I don’t want to forget those “love” feelings or is it that I don’t want to feel “hurt” again? I guess I had the answer all along, I don’t want to forget those feelings with him, and I don’t want to feel those feelings again unless it was with him.
Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts but it’s not as painful as that first time. When it felt like someone was pushing a hundred little pins into my heart all at once or when it felt like someone was sitting on my chest. There would be a couple of months when I was doing great and everything felt as if things were looking up, and I even thought to myself “how did you ever feel that sad/hurt?” but then it would be followed by a couple of months of missing him and it felt like I was starting the process all over again.
This year, I spent many weekends going out with my friends, enjoying their company, going drinking. Funnily enough, I was never really that type of person, I wasn’t a drunken mess or anything but on reflection, maybe it’s how I attempted to numb my feelings. I also tried to spend all my free time doing something, and I realised this was also an attempt to ensure I had no free time to think about him. I learned a lot about myself this year.
This year, I’ve felt lonely as my best friend entered a new chapter of her life and our relationship changed. She used to have so much time for me, and we would see each other at least once a week. We used to text so much and she’d pour her heart out to me about her heartbreak. Then she got a boyfriend (and I swear, this is not because I am bitter about her having one) and got over the heartache of her ex. And suddenly she had very little time for me. She always worked and didn’t have time to meet up. Understandably, she would spend her days off with her family and her boyfriend. I didn’t really mind that too much but we now also wouldn’t have a meaningful conversation for days. I guess maybe she grew tired of hearing me talk about my heartbreak so much. And because she is only one of two people who know the whole story (and the only one in the country), I felt quite lonely feeling this way and not having someone to talk about it with. I am truly trying to enjoy time with myself and also trying my best to communicate more with my best friend.
I’ve felt that I lost a part of myself this year. I am so much more irritable and that really took a toll on my relationship with my family, and most especially my parents. And because I couldn’t talk to them about it, I just directed my anger at them. I realised that my anger was just a mask for my sadness and loneliness. I also realised it was since I met him that I’ve been like that. It’s terrible really, I was probably a horrible person to be around. Funnily enough, I’m the complete opposite when I’m at work. I’ve been called “bubbly” and “a breath of fresh air” and I am so completely functional and happy. I actually told my sister that I’m so happy at work that I probably run out of it by the time I get home, to which she bluntly replied “well could you leave some of it for us?” And once again, I realised how terrible my behaviour was. I am trying to have more patience and sometimes I fail.. and I forgive myself for that because I’m only human. But I keep trying.
I used to sing songs to the top of my lungs in my car and dance like I didn’t care who was watching, but I no longer do that now. I spend a lot of my journeys listening to music relating to some sort of heartache. I’ve been really trying to get my old self back.
My year wasn’t just all about this damn heartache. I also had a lot of experiences. I travelled a whole lot and loved every single minute of it. This year, I was lucky to go back to Hanoi again to volunteer, came to visit cousins I hadn’t seen in 9 years, went on my first holiday with my best friend to Greece, took a 2-week holiday with my friends to the Philippines, came to see an old college friend for a chilled out weekend in Manchester and headed to see my new nephew in Atlanta. I love to travel, but to bring it back.. I also know that deep within, I wished he could see how much I was still achieving, despite my feelings. I know that I also wish he was there with me.
But here’s to looking forward to a better and more positive year. Here’s to 2019 - which I’m going to actively try to work on bettering myself and enjoying my own company.
