I hated my ex-boyfriend. Yeah, I know there’s nothing so original about that statement, but it was the truth. I completely hated his guts. Now, you will want to know why I hated him.
The answer to this question depended on the asker. If you were someone close to me, I’d tell you that it was because my ex-boyfriend is an uncaring, insensitive jerk. If you were someone I didn’t know, I’d ask you to mind your own business. But whatever happened, the real reason was something I refused to completely admit even to myself and that was that he was happy without me in his life and here I was, filled with bitterness.
He had clearly moved on without any hindrance while I was still stuck in the memories and pain of being without him. So yes, I hated him because he had learnt to live without me while I still needed him. Pathetic, isn’t it? I didn’t care though.
Now, as much as I proclaimed to hate him, I doubt I could actually hate him. I know now, that it was not him but my need for him that I hated, that had annoyed me. This was pretty much why I could simply not help but stalk him. Yes, I took up stalking him on social media quite seriously.
But that morning, I took a step ahead in my stalking career. I stalked him in person on the crowded streets of London. I’ll tell you how this happened.
I was in a restaurant having breakfast all by myself, when I saw that sight. It was him and he wasn’t alone, no. There was a girl with him. That was enough for the green monster to rear its head and declare war over my common sense.
Now, you might think that I was the one who was dumped for obvious reasons. But that’s the thing, I wasn’t the one who was dumped. Instead, I had dumped him. Why? Simple. I was scared.
I was scared of how important he had become to me all too soon. I was scared that he had so much power over me and my feelings- he could hurt me with just so much as a word. It was terrifying for someone with issues like mine.
You see, my parents never loved each other. All I had seen through my childhood was their numerous quarrels that ended up in my mom crumpled and lying in a bloodied heap on the floor and my dad drunk and unconscious next to her. So yes, I was scared of commitment. I didn’t believe in love. But he had changed all of that for me. Inspite of that, I had run away when I found it too hard to bear like I had done at the age of sixteen, from my home.
So now, here I was, lonely and single and pathetic. I couldn’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I knew all I would see was shame. Yet, I couldn’t not stalk my ex. He gave me a purpose to live for even when he was not a part of my life anymore.
So that morning, I decided to follow him. I saw him get a cab and did the same, shadowing him with expertise that would put detectives to shame. Not really, though.
On many occasions I was sure he would catch me but luckily he didn’t.
Soon, we were nearing his apartment complex and memories flooded into my mind of carefree times spent with him there. I was happy then and I wanted all of it back. That thought had me stop in my tracks. Until then I had been too stubborn to admit that to myself. But now I knew, that I yearned for him. I was still in love with him after all.
Lost in thoughts, I forgot for a moment that I was stalking my ex. I looked up to find that they were nowhere ahead. That’s when it struck me, that I was wasting my life away for something of the past.
I trudged to the nearby park, found a bench and parked my bottom on it for some much needed introspection.
“Where had I gone wrong? How do I make it right? I’m sick of living like this! I need to move on.”, and so my thoughts ran.
So lost I was that I didn’t sense it when someone sat down next to me until they spoke to me.
“You know stalking is an offence right?”, I heard that familiar voice say.
I looked up in bewilderment. He had caught me, in the end.
“I-I I am so s-s-sorry. I-I don’t know why… I just… I’m so sorry!”, I said. Then to my utter embarrassment I burst into big fat tears. Way to go, right? My ex being the great person that he was, consoled me.
It would have been a perfect ending to the story if I could say that we forgot the past and got together again and then lived happily ever after. But that’s not how life works. That day, we talked about everything. Our mistakes, our relationship, things we should have spoken about a long time ago. That morning, I didn’t get him back as my boyfriend but I did get a friend. I learnt that he had moved on eventually but in the beginning he had been completely devastated. Later he got his life back on track. Now, he was happy in his life with his current girlfriend and I had no right to envy that. I was heartbroken to learn that, yes, but he deserved to be happy after all.
I still love him to this day, but I lost my chance just because I was scared. Maybe in the future, he might decide to trust me again and give me a second chance. But i knew that would never happen. Second chances did not always, appear in life, you know? Or maybe I’d find somebody else with whom I won’t let my fears overtake my senses. Either way I was adamant on getting my life back to form.
The future was yet to be decided and I was determined to make it right this time because mistakes of the past would help me better my future, right? I hope so.