During Holy Week, a friend told me that if he were my partner, I wouldn't be writing columns about ex-boyfriends.That's why you're just my friend."I replied.
Although, in reality, I didn't know if it was a comment from a "local macho" who forbids things or from one who believes that his mere presence should erase any memory.
Be that as it may, I'll clarify a couple of things: I generally don't write about my exes, I write about myself and my interactions with love.
But even if I talk about some of them, that doesn't mean I want them back in my life.
I learned a valuable lesson a while ago, one that keeps me from repeating my mistakes: "There's a reason your ex is your ex."
That phrase, so simple and stupid, makes us avoid idealizing a relationship that no longer exists for one reason (or many) during a breakup, over time, in solitude, or if we encounter a "worse" story.
However, a few days ago something made me think about what my happiest relationship has been?
Then, I realized that I don't even remember some relationships, that my mind doesn't classify them as "relationships" even though, in theory, they were, and I don't know if that's because they lasted so short a time or because they had so little impact on my life.
But I admit that I was surprised (and I think even saddened) to notice that, despite my good sentimental memory, there are guys and chapters that I completely erased, that is, I am not able to remember their last names, their birthdays, what we talked about or what we did together. It is the real "And if I don't remember... it didn't happen."
I also noticed that there were two kinds of happiness: a euphoric one, with ups and downs, unbridled passion, and a host of its own codes. And a calm one, full of conventions, tenderness, and camaraderie, where—supposedly—they loved me more than I loved them.
If I had to be 100% honest, I would confess that I was happier in the first one, but I convinced myself that this revealed a certain level of toxicity on my part.
For example: how could I have suffered so much and, at the same time, been so deeply happy with the same person?
That's why I bet more, I bet everything, on the second modality.
However, in reality, the end of relationships (at least in the months and even years afterward) ends up marking their score... and almost all of my endings have been disastrous.
One of them asked me for "air," but a couple of days later, while he was breathing, he married another woman and they even had a daughter (not at all premature) at 8 or 7 months old.
The other one was still very much married to the woman he was supposedly very much divorced from, but I found out three years later.
The last one left without warning: good morning, my love, your breakfast was delicious, see you in a moment and whoops… he even took his toothbrush with him.
And I know there are those who say any ending is bad, painful, etc. But let's agree on two things: 1. Some are worse than others. 2. Everything ends.
Just like in the movies, the film may have been brutal, but a bad ending leaves a bitter taste in our mouths that is hard to forget.
Psychologists explain it this way:
"When we watch a movie we love, but don't like the ending, we say the ending ruined the movie for us. But that's not true: we enjoyed the experience of the movie; what's been ruined is our memory of it."
Even if all romantic endings are bad, some can feel better with time. For example, I prefer honesty, the "I cheated on you with someone else and... got her pregnant," "I am and will always stay married," and "I don't love you the same anymore," over excuses.
It's a fucking pain to not know what happened, why they lied to you, since when or to what extent, and suddenly not even knowing what percentage of your story was real, who the other person is... and how painful it is to not be able to put your hand in the fire for someone you loved or love.
In addition to the accumulation of future fears.
Today, although I still have no desire or time to monitor another's behavior, sometimes I find that I'm afraid of getting serious again and being cheated on again, being lied to, being pretended to have a love that no longer exists, but the worst (and most absurd) thing is that strange panic of believing again that everything is fine only to discover that everything is dying.
Suddenly, I'm like those people who believe that if everything is calm it's because a storm is coming, that if they laugh a lot, they'll cry later, and so I go: self-sabotaging my life.
That's why we need to be careful how we leave: don't lie (or stop doing so), don't ghost, don't flirt with the victim (especially if you weren't one), don't do everything to make the other person abandon you, don't leave them by text or phone.
That.
By: Jessica Dos Santos /Instagram: Jessidossantos13
Tell me your story, write it however you like, together we shape it and share it. In life, spreading the different forms of love is always necessary: lasultimasnoticiasdelamor@gmail.com
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A wise woman told me: "If you're leaving, don't slam the door." And that worked for me for everything: homes, jobs, and loves. It's much better to close the door gently, even knowing we'll never touch it again. Especially out of respect for the place that door holds: a place where happiness once lived.