I was convinced I had put everything that happened between the two of us behind me. I was sure that enough time had passed, I had built up enough strength and I was ready. I was positive that I was in a place where I could move forward with my life, leaving the chapter filled with the pain you caused, far behind me.
But, I guess I was wrong. Just like grief, a broken heart has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Usually, right around the time you start to thing your broken pieces begin to find their way back together.
I was sure I was I ready to finally get rid of your things. That drawer in my room didn’t need to be occupied anymore. I was finally ready to tear it apart.
I was convinced I was ready to start going on dates again. I was going to put myself back out there. I was in a place where I was finally ready to let myself feel again.
I was positive I was ready to talk about you at a night out at the bar. I would be able to tell stories, and reminisce, and it would all be fine. I could joke about why I ever let someone put me through the things that you did. My friends and I would laugh at how naive I was to stay.
Wrong, wrong and wrong. I was completely wrong with all of these assumptions. I was putting an unrealistic timeframe on a love and a pain that shook me to my core. I was comparing myself to others in an area that was far different from almost everyone I knew.
I was forcing myself to be ready for these things. I was convincing myself that I was ready to go through your things, go on dates and talk about you with my friends. I actually made myself believe that these things were true.
But they weren’t.
Of course I’ve made progress. I have definitely come a long way since that warm fall day that you told me it was time that we closed this door for good. I am not the same person I was then. I wouldn’t want to be.
But that doesn’t mean I am ready to put it all behind me. That definitely doesn’t mean that my heart is ready to heal from the damage that it was put through. That for sure does not mean that it’s wrong for me to still have a major setback that leads to me sobbing in my bed, scrolling through pictures of the two of us, and wondering what it was that went wrong.
I am human. It’s okay not to heal overnight. It’s unrealistic to think that I could snap my fingers and get over you.
It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be an uphill battle every single day putting this behind me.
I don’t have to be ready. It isn’t my time just yet.