How It Feels To Move On From A  Relationship

When my four-year relationship ended, it was with a somber acceptance that we had run our course. Looking back, we both knew where it was heading- and had known- for at least a year. We dragged our feet disguised in jokes and laughter. But the silence was stiff, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I wasn’t surprised when he stood in front of me exasperated that he couldn’t find the right words to end it.

I nodded quietly while he expressed his frustration that there just wasn’t a solution right now.

“I’m not mad at you for wanting to focus on yourself right now. I’ll always love you and what we had. I won’t look back in anger.” I said quietly.

You see, I’m good at acknowledging the reality of the situation. I understand why he couldn’t stay with me. I understand why it just wasn’t worth the effort anymore- on either end.  And unfortunately, I knew even though I love him, I deserved someone who wants to grow with me too.

But the thing about being “Celena and” for four years is that when it becomes just “Celena,” an adjustment is needed. Routines change. I spend my weekends at coffee shops and the gym instead of laying in his room for hours. I busy myself with dinner dates with friends. I’m aware of all the empty spaces now. The lack of notifications on my phone. The vacant spot on the bed. And the emptiness between my fingers.

It’s strange how another person can become so integral to who you are, but then at the same time, their absence can fade so quickly. A few months after we separated, a mutual friend of ours asked how I was doing, and it took me a good ten seconds to realize she was asking how I was without him?’


“Oh, I’m fine.” I said. And I meant it.

That’s what’s odd.

Don’t get me wrong, I mourned my loss. My loss of a friendship. And routine. There were weeks that I laid in bed an extra hour because it seemed easier than getting up to face the day. I enjoy our memories, and there are times when it does still sting unexpectedly. A song. A smell. An inside joke. It comes rushing back.

But time truly does fade things.

There will be days where the seconds tick slow, and your brain will fill with images of him. But there will be weeks where you won’t think to text him, and the bed won’t seem so lonely.

Take solace in the timing.

Give yourself grace during your period of healing and growing.

It gets better.


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