Letting love go | Accepting being the wrong one in love

By Kwangu

It was freshman year of college.

I remember being excited about the full and complete college experience. My mom and dad sat me down the morning before I started myjourney to Chancellor College.

It was January of 2016. They gave me the usual “work hard, and stay away from boys” bit, that every African parent gives their child before embarking into the abyss that is a college experience. As expected, little old me did not listen. They dropped me off, and I got settled into my life in Uni.

I met a boy a couple weeks later, and that was the beginning of my love story.

It was a little after eight in the evening, and you came in looking for my roommate, but she was not in the room at that time. You had this rustic hippie look, that I initially hated, but later grew fond of.

Your physical features fit my standards – tall, slim and dark. My first impression of you was that you were a bad boy, and honestly, I was thrilled.

That night was you noticing me, and I noticing you. Just like that, seeds were planted, and our little romance started to bloom.

Fast-forward to valentine’s day – I remember we were in my room, and we did not do anything particularly special. You had to go back to your room, so I escorted you to our usual rendezvous point – and because you were one heck of a tall young man. my tippy toes came in handy. We shared our first kiss, and sparks went flying. There were sparks everywhere, everywhere.

A few months into our love, and I got to know you better. You were full of life, and loved love.

Just like everyone else, you had your flaws. You hid your true emotions and feelings behind your daft sarcasm.

We did so much together, and it was good. You probably still wonder what went wrong, and where it went all wrong.

I was 16, and I was dealing with my low self-esteem issues. Add that to a lot of insecurities, that came about as a result of how I was brought up. I used to hide, it by saying that I easily get bored in a relationship – but honestly I could never speak my mind when I was with you.

You kept on trying to reach out in so many ways, but my fears – which would have all been resolved in one sit down, caused me to push you away.

I felt inadequate. Basically the thought that I could be enough for someone was farfetched, and in that, I could never be enough for anyone else because I would only give myself to you, or anyone, in doses.

I didn’t know these things about myself then, and that cost me you.

We broke up October of 2016, but by the beginning of 2017, we were talking again.

For some reason, I started to lead you on, thinking that I actually wanted to be in a relationship with you again.

We had a falling out and we stopped talking. I know you still have questions, and I will do my best to answer, the much that I can.

 I have a lot to say to you now.

I hate the way we left things.

It was sudden.

I caused it, and I never really owned up to the bit that was my fault.

I cannot say all this to you. I cannot even imagine myself writing it down. I am unsure of the reason why. Maybe it is because of what facing up to the fact that I was the one in the wrong does to me. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

You were kind to me, truly kind to me. In some way you were also good for me, even though I didn’t see that. I did not have the ability to be good to myself, like you were.

All I want to do is apologise, but I do not have the guts to do that to your face.

Lately, I have come to the realization that most of us have a hard time letting go.

I particularly have the hardest time of letting the past be the past.

For some reason, I am using this as my journal. I find solace in this, but at the same time I am stripped of all my armor, and I feel vulnerable.

There are a lot things that I wish I would have said, and done. Perhaps if I did, I wouldn’t have been like this. Maybe if I said my truest thoughts, then I wouldn’t have to ruminate.

One of my mentors the other day, told me that ruminating is next to depression. You fantasise on all that you could have done, so much so that it takes over you – and before you know it, you are depressed.

Step 1 of letting go: Own it!

I gathered the courage to apologize.

I gathered the courage to admit, that I led you on, and that I just wanted to use you. You took it really well, surprisingly.

For a moment we were happy, and as brief as that was, it was good.

I left you out to dry, because it was getting too real for me – and I couldn’t handle it.

If I’m being entirely honest, I wish I could’ve said the things I never got to say.

I did not tell you everything. I didn’t tell you how much I needed you, I didn’t tell you how badly I wanted you to hold me, I didn’t tell you that I was scared, I didn’t tell that I miss you.

If only I had a fairy godmother, to wave her wand, and fix everything.

When we broke up, it took me awhile to face up to the fact that I am an unhealthy person.

I realized that I let my insecurities get the best of me, and that seeps into my relationships. I realise that this can hurt the person you are with, as you start to unconsciously lay your burden on their shoulders. You leave them to have to deal with their burden, and yours too – which is an unfair thing to do to someone you claim to love.

I was that person who didn’t deal with my problems, both emotional and physical. As they came, I put them off, and they start to pile up – and oh the day it all blows up, and causes a mess of things.

I am learning to deal with things as they come.

We all have things that we are struggling with. Many times we prefer not to deal with them, as we may think it is just a small matter; but we don’t know that it can later affect the relationships we have with people.

The problems we choose not deal with could be the reason why we are failing in some parts of life. We need to truthfully deal with problems as they come. I say truthfully, because lying to ourselves doesn’t make things any better.

Honestly – the truth hurts, but part of growing requires being brutally honest with oneself.

Love,

Koko