The 4 letter word

This is not a blog for the faint of heart.

A few years ago when I was 17 (almost 18), I fell in love. I was not at all prepared for what that entailed.

When I first met him, I thought he was weird, awkward, and personally not my type. But the more time I spent with him the more I liked him so a couple weeks later (okay, okay, a few days later) we began dating. After a couple of breakups, all over dumb shit, I fell for him and he for me. I was going through a tough time in my life. My parents had divorced and I was distraught for several months. Years, actually. I was also going through a major hurricane evacuation. None of these are excuses.

At the beginning of this tale, you might recall how I said he wasn’t really my type when I met him. Well desperation and need changes things. I was desperate for a rescue. At the time, I swore he helped save me but looking back on it, I think I just grinned and beared this thing we call life and healed myself over time. He’s not getting all of the credit.


After awhile, we did what a lot of couples do. We basically grew apart. The week of my high school graduation, I discovered he had been unfaithful to me. I wanted no more than to see him hurt and suffer like I had after that painful moment. But I could not return the infidelity.

We remained together for a little longer because even though he broke my little heart I still felt love for him. I just knew it was a one time thing and it wouldn’t happen again. People live happily ever after. People can change. Ha!

Then came college…

After choosing a college, I met up with him at this college (that he went to) and on move-in day I learned that I had the dorm right across the hall from his. I thought life could NOT get any better than that. Until we broke up. Again.

That’s when I began really “hating” him and wishing I lived anywhere else, literally. He would parade girls (annoying and unattractive ones) around the dorm (in the hall) and as you most likely know dorm walls are PAPER thin. Let’s just say, I wanted to run away. From him. From everything and anything that reminded me of him. That’s what I’m good at. But I didn’t. I stayed and as soon as my lease was up, I left that horrible dorm and moved across campus. When you attend a small university, you begin noticing that you literally can’t avoid anyone. No matter how hard you try. Trust me, I tried it. Many times. I never succeeded.


Eventually we became friends ONLY and yeah. Well we both dated other people (him more than me) and no matter how hard we tried, could not stay away from each other. Magnetic attraction? I have no clue. But I did know that I still loved him. Unfortunately. I thought I would never get over him and wanted to punch every person that told me “time heals all wounds.”

Today I am writing to tell you that that statement is true. After…hmm…5 or so years of being hopelessly in love with this guy, I finally got over him. I don’t really know how I did it. I moved a couple hours away to a new city WITHOUT him in it and wa-lah! One day, after not talking to him for a few days, I realized I didn’t miss him. I didn’t wait by my phone hoping he would text or call while butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I didn’t check my Facebook 20 times a day in the hopes of seeing something from him. At last I didn’t care! It felt so great.

And it stayed that way. I don’t talk to him much now. He tends to gross me out and turn me off. Well, that’s the real test right there. When that moment comes where he tried something that once worked and you’re just not into it anymore, I don’t particularly mean sexually, (even to the point where it disgusts you- my dilemma), you’re done. You can say good bye! Adios! I know I might sound rude right now but oh well. It feels good to let the truth out.

Still to this day I can honestly say I don’t love him anymore.

I wanted you to see that this feat is possible. I wanted to tell you from experience that sometimes running away can help you. I wanted to tell you that time does heal. I know it feels like it’ll take centuries but eventually you’ll wake up one day and feel this pleasure. The pleasure of freedom. So, if my calculations are correct, you can punch me in the face now.

On that note, I leave you with hope and bravery. Man, woman, child- you can move on.



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