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Nobody said it was easy

So as I was scrolling through posts, stumbled upon that line, and just like that, the chest heaviness was instantaneous.

I forgot how the song went, and I always thought it was ironic that we were both "scientists".

I guess that song really had a meaning for us even back then...

It was like a premonition, perhaps?

"Take me back to the start"

That should have been a sign that it wasn't going to end well.

The other day, I remember thinking how it was really all a mistake.

We were young, and I was extra naive.

The homily last Sunday mentioned how you both have to be clear about your expectations before you give your vows.

Then it got me thinking about what expectations I had then, and whether or not they were realistic.

Having a boyfriend:
1. It meant you wanted to take a chance and see if you like/love each other enough to get married
2. Having someone to talk with about your hopes and dreams, no matter how silly they were
3. Have someone to trust and rely on for anything
4. Have someone to give all the love you never thought you could give
5. Have someone who'll rely on you, and allow access to his/her most vulnerable self
6. Have someone to argue with about countless things, but at the end of the day, would still hug you for being silly/crazy
7. Have someone to push you to work extra hard and give more than your best so you both can have a prosperous, long, and successful life together

I forgot the part that it really is just both of you testing the waters.

No amount of promises can keep you together, it really is a choice based on compatibility.


Funny how our repeated arguments on driving late and staying out to study were never truly resolved.
I guess I just wanted to see if he'd understand that I had more weaknesses than he'd expect - falling asleep/giving in to sleep. That he couldn't accept that was a little too painful, so I pushed, hoping he'd eventually accept it. But he never did.

And as he disappeared, getting to study and stay at home wasn't as impossible as it seemed before.

I remember talking to him calmly after he'd be shouting at me, and eventually, both of us would acknowledge that it was all out of worry and hurt. And everything was okay.

That we never got to figuring out that studying out was me hurting because he didn't accept me and my flaws... maybe there was a good reason for that.
- my acting out... was unacceptable. Looking back, it was tiresome, but maybe it was to make good memories with other people.

I keep thinking now if my manner of handling relationships then and now is still as layered as it used to be.

Now, when I'm upset, I say it. When I'm hurt, or tampo, I simply say it and move on.

It's only now that I realized how... hurt I was from the very beginning, and thought I was strong enough to handle it all.

Maybe that's why I write a lot. To process instead of brushing things aside... so I don't subconsciously act out.

The hurt that dictated how insecure I was with our relationship is a product of two main things:
1. He broke my trust - making "The Promise"
2. He didn't trust me
3. He cared more about the effect of the "lack of safety" on him, more than how his behavior was hurting me

Likewise, I cared more about myself - how he didn't trust me even after all I've sacrificed/avoided to reassure him.

He was right - I wasn't that spineless, nor was I that weak or thoughtless.
But I was constantly frazzled by the idea that he may not have been in love with me as I thought.

Those 3 1/2 years, I was delusional - I believed him every time he'd say he loved me. He played the part well by ticking stuff off the "perfect boyfriend checklist".

But his expectations from our relationship... what exactly were they?

I simply wanted to marry my best friend.

But I didn't feel like he trusted me. So I was scared all the time.

I guess my gut was right in thinking he'd still leave in spite all his flowery words.

All bark and no bite.

On my end, I have to work on how I can express my love and care for the other person. And I have to catch myself when I'm overcompensating and exhausting myself.

Forgot to ask the simplest question - "Are you happy? Because I'm trying to make you happy, and this *insert activity* isn't working, so something else is bothering you".

Denial will never help a relationship grow.

Turning a blind eye, hoping issues will resolve themselves on their own... is never a good idea.

"What's wrong?" - short and simple.

Then... you don't jump ahead and make conclusions on your own.

An attentive ear goes a loooooong way.


No, I don't want to go back.

No, I don't want to see him hurt again.

After all the tears I've cried, nothing will ever compare to the exact moment my heart broke - seeing him cry... because he was exhausted. And I... couldn't do anything... because it was too late.

It took that long for me to see... that he was trying that hard to love me, but it wasn't in our cards.

For years, I've been blaming myself, thinking there was something wrong with me.

Maybe there is... or maybe I was just too young and human.

That second... I felt like, "I'm that difficult to love".

And it didn't help that he then saw me as a monster.

But... I only did what I could then. Had we both seen that I had trust issues with him even from the very beginning, maybe we could have spared each other all that pain.

He was smart, not to swear we'd never have a future.

If you're really the type to stop caring, that wouldn't even matter anymore.

That I still promised to never have him my future, only shows I'm still the one who hasn't stopped caring. No, there is no hope for us, but that I'd still rather pretend like I choose to cut him out of my life... says a lot.

Because I can't handle it.

Because a part of me's sad that we broke up not because I fell out of love with him, but because I loved him too much, but I was too scared an insecure to function properly.

It helps that we were able to talk a few months back... that it felt like we were good friends again. The insecurity and fear... they weren't there. So it was easier to function.

Trying to hold onto something, gripping too hard... doesn't work.

There's a natural flow and order to things.

If he really was meant to love me, and me to love him, it would've been easy. Natural.

Like in the beginning.

"Oh, take me back to the start"

That's why that line has that effect on me.