Midnight Reflections

I know I make a lot of comments, jokes and treat my three year relationship break up lightly but it was very serious. At least to me.

Making the decision of walking out on everything I had built for me and this person was so hard. I believe I can say it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. As much as I really, truly hate him, I am glad to have learned a lot. I know I hate him and I make that very clear on this blog but the situation was way sadder than what I’ve made it out to be. I’m angry. It’s obvious. But there are times when the cold winter breeze hits me and I feel a wave of calmness. The realization of the gravity of the situation settles in and I can’t help but be proud of myself.

Throughout the many miserable months of being with this guy, I dedicated ‘You’re Losing Me by Taylor Swift’ to him a lot. He was well aware of my misery and simply did not care. I resonated with this song and the whole ‘The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology’ album so much. The many army references she made during this era didn’t help my relation to this album. It was as if she knew exactly what I was going through. Every lyric was my verbatim and cryptic reality. The sounds perfectly captured the sounds of my heart being gutted.

I am obviously very angry at this guy for what he put me through. Even on my worst days, I didn’t deserve any of the hell he gave me. However, I want to thank the version of myself who mustered up the courage to finally leave on May 12, 2025.

She did what the past versions of myself couldn’t. Her bravery saved me. My bravery saved me.

My ex-boyfriend wasn’t the only person losing me. My friends were losing me. My family was losing me. I was losing myself. That was so dangerous. The harm he was inflicting on me was being inflicted on the people who were more important than he was. 

He was like a vampire. 

He was sucking the life out of me and I kept losing myself in his domestic ways. My friends tried begging me to leave but I couldn’t advert my gaze from his smile that turned into a smirk. My sister tried to stress how mean I was becoming but I couldn’t help but like the stinging of his venom. He was turning me into a vicious dog. I had the appearance of a pitbull but I am not an angry person anymore. I’m not vicious, I’m delicate. I couldn’t see color anymore and it wasn’t my eye disease deceiving me.

It felt like every day was a never ending shade of grey and I was pale in the midst of it. 

Painting my nails bright red couldn’t even save me from the discoloration of my aura. I didn’t want to signal for help because I didn’t mind wearing his shade of maroon. I wanted him to trap me in his insufferable army of alcoholics. 

I wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t even sure who I was. 

I woke up tired every single day and I would do nothing but lay in bed. I was exhausted and even a nice, warm shower couldn’t relax my nerves. He rewired me. My nervous system felt like it needed his illegal drug in order to be soothed.  

That was no way to live. That is no way to ‘love’ someone as good as me.

When someone chooses to lose you rather than change, that’s the decision they’ve made for the rest of their life. Leaving them is the decision you should make based off theirs. I know that’s easier said than done but the decision they made was easier done than said. That is where you stand in their list of importance. 

I am now eight months sober with no intention of relapsing ever again. Leaving something as mentally abusive as that was the bravest thing I have ever done. It was nothing compared to leaving a guy who has actually put his hands on me, no. This was far worse. This was like nothing I had ever experienced.

Every morning I’d check my pulse and couldn’t find it. His was always beating healthily, though. His eyes had life from the life he was taking from me. Even on his worst, saddest days he had life.

Every waking moment with him felt like total isolation. I was never alone, he just dragged the cat away from her home. In our final conversation, he had the theory I was watching him. This post isn’t about my anger, it’s about the sad reality of the situation. Despite my anger, it was sad that he still sees the stupid version of my nineteen year old self. He thinks I’m still that girl who sat by the window waiting for him to come home. 

He’ll never know me again and that brings me serenity, calmness and peace.

Within that final conversation, I told him one more lie. I am angry. I do hate him. I don’t care about what terms we are on because he built this cage. I don’t care if he is doing shitty and I don’t care if he is doing well. In my mind, he is warped in a black hole. He doesn’t exist. For so long, I wished I could have hoped for the best in his life but I don’t care at all. You can’t care about a stranger. That isn’t disrespect, it’s just the truth.

Discovering everything he did to me in secret, I could never possibly wish him the absolute best. He is sick for hurting me in such twisted ways. That’s so sad, though. It’s sad he foolishly stepped out on the one person who would’ve done anything to make him happy. He missed out on the greatest opportunity presented to him. I am angry with him, obviously, but I once loved him. I used to want what was best for him and maybe it wasn’t me back then but it is now. I am what’s best for him and now that I hate him, I am unattainable. He will live the rest of his life with the same lack of love I had for three years.

There is no woman in this world that is better than me. He will never find better than me. He will only find better for him. These are incomprehensible sentences for a real small mind. 

I got out. I made it. I didn’t lose myself. 

Thankfully, I managed to escape on a random Monday night. I don’t know what came over me that night. I’m just glad it did. If I hadn’t left him that night, I don’t know when I would’ve.

If I hadn’t left him, I would’ve missed out on numerous opportunities.

I would’ve missed out on the life I am living now. I love my life. I love what I am doing now. I am everything I wanted to be two years ago. I have grown so big that I am no longer taking baby steps in the life I am choosing. I feel nurtured. I feel flourished. I feel fertilized.

For so long, I couldn’t get out of bed ‘cause something counterfeit was dead.

If I hadn’t stopped CPR on a relationship that was already going through rigor mortis, I wouldn’t have experienced the love I have been experiencing now. We were too far gone to bring back to life. I gave him all my best me’s, my endless empathy, and all I did was bleed. I lost so much blood that I almost fell in love with the color red.

I’m just getting color back into my face. 

I am proud of the girl I was on May 12, 2025. She set us free for good. Though it took me much longer to get rid of him for the rest of my life afterwards, I finally did. He can finally no longer reach the title of the love of my life. He isn’t even the loss of my life. I lost nothing when he let me go. He is nothing to lose. What I lost that I never will again was myself. 

I am the loss of my own life. Now that I am much happier, I can say I am the love of my life. 

That guy was never going to fight for me or for my mental sanity. My pain was such a major imposition to him. He got pleasure from driving me insane. He said he was going to grow up and then he was going to come find me. I’ll confess that I waited. I let the lamp burn. However, I must have forgotten he always wanted to be a firefighter. He put out every spark I had in me. There went my hopes and dreams of us ever becoming one, fading away with the now white smoke. He let me burn out as he walked away unscathed. Another great day of saving lives from wild fires. As always, the life he saved was his, not mine. 

I always found myself asking, ‘I just don’t understand. How could he not miss me? Why do I miss him more than he misses me?’ Well, I can say it was because how could he miss someone that I didn’t even miss? How could he miss someone that I wasn’t anymore? How could he miss someone that needed to be resuscitated?

I didn’t even know myself so how could he have missed someone who was nobody? I lost myself. I was so far gone that I was nobody to not only him but to myself. 

The only person who could have saved me was myself and I did exactly that. I couldn’t be any prouder.

I am so proud of the woman I’ve been becoming lately. 

I would’ve missed out on all of this if he was still my boyfriend. I wouldn’t have known what love truly felt like. It feels really amazing. I cannot believe I was going to spend the rest of my life not knowing what it felt like. I guess that says enough about the kind of person I am when I love someone with all my loyalty. There are some things that are far more important than loving someone else, though. 

I am giving myself the gentle love and care that I have never received.

2025 was a terrible year for me but I cannot stress enough just how crucial it was to my personal growth. I needed to ‘lose’ him to love me. I needed to let go of all my teenage baggage and become the best version of myself.

One thing I would like to stress is just because I write about people who have screwed me over, that doesn’t mean I care. What I mean by that is, I am very much over this guy. There truly is nothing to mourn. I couldn’t care less about what he does, who he does or however many women he involves himself with. I couldn’t care less about his social media presence, insults he says about me, clubs or bars he goes to and if a woman takes him home and shows him a better time than I ever did. The only thing I care about is him making another woman suffer. I would hate for a woman to be punished just for loving him. That is immoral. It is inhumane. However, it is not my job to care and it is his job to be a good person for once. I am just an empath.

I feel healthier not being in his life. I am healing miraculously. This post is to highlight how proud I am of myself for overcoming one of the greatest obstacles and burden in my life. 

I survived 2025 and am existing in such a loving, positive atmosphere that is now 2026. I did it all with a broken heart. I accomplished so much while being depressed and now that I’m happy, I’m doing so much more. I cried a lot but I was so productive. 

I was a tough kid and I’m even tougher now. 

Now that I know better, I will never lose my baby again. Myself. I could make a list of things I have learned since May 12 but I’m still growing as my beautiful life goes on. 

I have learned so much about myself that I would have never known if I continued fighting in his army as his bravest soldier. I know I explain my undeniable hatred towards him but behind all that hatred was once a girl who would have died for his sins. 

However, losing myself hurt a lot more than losing him. I stopped taking photos of myself. I stopped looking at myself in the mirror. I took quick showers so I wouldn’t have to see myself naked for so long. I learned how to do makeup so he could want me more. I weighed myself to ensure I was still below 100lbs. I starved my body. 

That’s the sad reality of it all. Yes, I’m angry but I was really sick. I was so sad that I grew sick. I grieve that side of me. She just really, really fucking loved him. She did anything to make him love her back. No. She just wanted him to like her. She just wanted him to enjoy the sound of her breathing. He never did, though. The more I find out about the shit he’s done, the more I sympathize. 

I have sympathy for that version of me. I’ll crack jokes because sometimes I find it funny but really, it’s not. Harming my own body— the body that nurtures me, wasn’t fucking funny. None of what he did to me was funny. It was sad. It was disgusting. It was criminal. It was so, so mean. As much as he disgusts me, I think it’s really sad how much of a terrible person he is and was to me. No, he continues being such a mean, terrible person to me. Just because he’s out of the picture for good doesn’t mean he didn’t do what he did. He is too much of a prideful, egotistical coward to even muster up an authentic apology. He is still cruel. 

Nobody, not even him, understands the gravity of the situation. He should never take pride in hurting a woman the way he hurt me. His sister is going to be the same age I was when he robbed me of my girlhood. He adored his sister. I’m someone’s sister. My sisters had to watch me go through all of the hell he put me through. I pray his doesn’t go through the same.

I was just a girl in love with a boy. Put that into deep perspective. I hope something clicks in him someday. I would hate for another woman to feel his misery. I hope he does right by women for once.

 I pray women all over don’t go through what he has put me through. Him jerking off to random girls we went to high school with, Leah Kateb from Love Island USA and so many other criminal, unspeakable things is not funny. I cannot believe he finds that incomprehensible because it was not funny and it never will be. It’s cruelty. I turn to God and pray that he puts the sins in his phone down so no other woman feels the pain of finding out he is a conniving liar. And if he makes another woman experience the same thing I did, I hope she at least gets the proper apology I never got out of him. It is not a flex. His army friends must find his cruelty towards me hilarious but when I was the only one at his frontlines shit wasn’t so funny. 

I deserved happier days. I think it’s very important for someone to recognize their growth. I’m so glad I found myself again. I found prosperity and love within myself. Nobody will ever lose me again. I will never lose myself. I would do anything for me. I would marry myself. I would feed myself. I will love myself to the end of time. I used to tell him I loved him enough for the both of us. Now, I love myself enough to go and be free. That’s a gift and I’ve always been a giver. 

I have given myself the grace I used to seek for three years. I am finally clean.

-A