Your Ex Was Meant To Hurt You And Here's Why

#cozysunday #sundayvibes ☕️🍫

A post shared by @ olgavvvvvvvv on

One Sunday morning, I decided to chill wearing nothing but PJs. The scene: I'm slowly sipping my low-fat Cappuccino and dreaming of Eggs Benedict with salmon. Ed Sheeran on the speakers. Hangover and makeup-free I'm feeling blessed for whatever there is to be grateful for on a day like this. 

My gratefulness didn't last for long when loudly-buzzing, vibrating sound of my iPhone managed to disturb my vibe. Within seconds I imagine my boyfriend, mother or best friend calling to find out the latest news about my Saturday night. 

What?! Are you kidding me? 

My heart starts to race as I let it ring for some more. I feel massive thunderstorm is about to strike inside of me. I get up, clear my throat, and try to act imaginary calm. 

" Hello," I said.

On the other line was my ex. We haven't talked to each other for at least eight months. Even then, it wasn't the most enticing conversation either. 

He's been drinking…dah! 

 Usually, it's a sober noon for me, and somewhere after midnight for him. Although there's more than just an ocean that separates us now,  I sometimes wondered how he is, but I never bothered to text or call. 

What's the point to shake up the past? 
He must be dating someone. Life is probably good for him. 

And just when you feel at ease and happy with what you have, when your memories of your former relationship start fading at the faster pace- he calls.

How mental is that?

I don't open my ex-file anymore; it wasn't always this way.

Prochain arrêt - ...🏙❤️

A post shared by @ olgavvvvvvvv on

When scars were fresh, and everything that happened seemed like yesterday, words were just uninvitedly pouring out of my mouth.  
 I would tell everyone how disturbing, crazy, and in so many ways toxic our relationship was. I would paint the picture of this terribly bad guy to whoever was ready to listen. And me, this never wrong girl.

Oh, that felt good. Liberating and empowering. 

You don't realize how difficult it is to stuff one's life of six years into a suitcase. You can't picture what it means holding a one-way ticket home. You can't imagine how lonely, unprotected and foreign it feels to do it again. And no matter how many times before I have moved, it doesn't get easier. 

Above all, I looked like I had it together. I appeared stronger than I was, and at the same time, I felt so stunningly fragile. I looked like I'm empowered with superpowers to accomplish new beginnings while I quietly retired the " painful " side of my life.

 Since then, I was slowly sewing my ripped wide open heart together again. 

Starting from the scratch takes a lot of courage, willpower and inner strength. Pulling yourself up from the ground when you've been mentally knocked down means internal growth. And so, day by day, one step at the time, I grew stronger.

I didn't hate all male souls out there. I was mature enough to realize that not all men are the same. Not everyone out there is to get you, to play you, to possess you, and then eat your heart with a fine wine. 

You guys, did I hate him that much?

No. He was a great man. Twisted and bruised in his ways. He gave his all.

 I was expecting things he wasn't ready to give. He wasn't ready to let me go. Our personalities clashed. We didn't get each other. We weren't on the same page. Guess we never could figure it out. 

Until one day my patience wore thin. I had enough of my dramas, waiting and hoping our relationship would change. Because there possibly couldn't be a good ending to this. So I packed my bags.

It's been long enough to lick my wounds- three years to be exact. 
And to this day I get nervous when he calls. We instantly pick up right where we left off – being at each other's throats. 

There was no peace when stormy arguments, sleepless nights, and punches to our bruised hearts was our " normal."  We never agreed on what went wrong. He often thought I had a cactus where my heart should be. I thought he was too possessive, demanding, too everything. And the stories...the stories we told to the world were insanely different.

He thought I'd come back one day more mature and ready for the commitment. He hoped I'd become the woman he tried so hard to make out of me. Maybe this is why he's never given me a closure till date. 

how-to-recover -after-breakup-Screen Shot 2018-04-18 at 12.53.41 PM.png

This got me thinking; some people will never give you closure. You must grant it to yourself. The past will always be here to mess with the present. Memories, phone calls, random text messages, Instagram likes - these things will still show up. All you can do is to make peace with it, unleash what's holding you back, and let it go. 

We often wonder- what if things played out differently?  If we stayed? If we didn't go separate ways? If we could work out our differences?

I've traveled far from where I've been. 

I no longer want to run around wearing makeup that doesn't survive tears. I no longer want to leave angry in the middle of the foggy night. I no longer want to fight until one of us wins. 

I am happy where I've arrived. And just like that, my break- up turned out to be a breakthrough.

This season is about blissful zen. I synced and clicked with a man I met.  There's no need to lock our horns. No need to leave. No need to prove anything. Just be raw me and be loved anyway.  Little by little I learned to open up my heart again. 

Above all never lose faith that there's that one person that can accept you for who you are. Love you where you are. And just maybe this time around you'll come closer to meeting 'The One.'