after the goodbye

It never is easy letting someone go. After putting in all your time, your love, and your being into whatever it was you had with them—a friendship, a romantic endeavor, a familial relationship—letting go feels like an insurmountable challenge. Even when you burn those bridges, the looming absence of their presence lingers in your life like a weight that you carry when you least expect it.

Why is it that no one ever talks about how one of the worst parts of letting go of someone, of losing somebody important, is having to learn how to relive without them? At least for me, that's always the hardest part of grieving a relationship. How do I pretend I never met them? Going from daily good morning texts to not acknowledging each other in the street, how do you cope with that? How do I fill the void of the daily messages we exchanged? When my social media algorithm is partly catered to their interests and humor, who do I send those videos to now? I have no choice but to watch them with an ache in my heart and then keep scrolling.

I remember a particular time when I was seeing this guy who meant the world to me. I knew things were nearing an end and at the time, as much as it hurt, I knew it was for the best. I just didn't know how painful it would be to watch him pull away and shut me out. I knew we had to let each other go but I wasn't ready to let go of who he was to me, of how he'd become my quotidien and what he brought to my life. When we were together, he made me feel like the prettiest girl, he made me feel untouchable, like nothing and no one would ever hurt me—until he did. But even then, I did not want to let go of the version of him that would go to work and call me during his breaks just to hear my voice, call me on his way home to tell me about his day and to hear about mine, refuse to hang up the phone because he wanted to fall asleep to the sound of my voice and stay up late just so we could play my favorite games or watch my favorite shows.

So, tell me, after all of this how am I supposed to fill my days if every day of my life since we met was centered around our interactions? And then, not long after he was gone, I experienced a deeply traumatizing situation and all I wanted was him—to find comfort in his arms because he was my safe haven yet I could no longer have that.

I've made peace with solitude, she's familiar, a companion of sorts. But loneliness? Loneliness is a cruel mistress; she carves out empty spaces and fills them with the light of someone I once would've moved mountains for. It doesn't get easier, no matter how many times I go through it—and I don't think it ever will. I will keep finding ways to keep my mind distracted from the thought of them, until, one day, their face is nothing but a distant memory.