Over the following months, my blog became a testament to how fickle I was.
I wrote about how I broke my ex’s heart for what I thought was the last time, when I finally gathered up the courage to tell him that I wanted us to break up for good.
Then I wrote that we were on good terms, that he found my blog and read my entries, and I just laughed about it.
I wrote about the guys I dated after my ex and I broke up. Everybody saw how excited I was about my newfound singlehood.
Barely a month after my first post, I wrote my ex a letter. I apologized and begged him to forgive me. I wanted him to take me back.
I wrote that I was dealing with too many things all at once and that I was starting to give out, but also that I was determined to win my ex back because he was worth it.
Then I revealed whose ex I was. It was after I made another mistake that cost me him yet again.
Soon after, I said that I had started to accept that all our good days have ended. I apologized to my ex one last time and promised to stop talking about the breakup.
I wrote that I was moving on.
But not a month had passed when I cursed him and blamed him for the breakup. I bade farewell to my blog and declared that my story had ended.
After a month, I was back. I said that I had come to realize that I can’t run from my problems. I was going to face them head-on.
I wrote about how I tried (and failed) to relive our days by doing the things we used to do but with other people.
Then I changed blogs and claimed that I will no longer write as someone’s ex, that I had already said everything I had to say about the breakup and will no longer write about it.
But I ended up still writing a couple more posts about my ex here in my new blog. I tried to pass them off as fiction, but it was a lame attempt. The truth was I wanted everyone to figure out that I was still hurting.
I started writing this entry a few weeks ago. I wanted to make sure that I wrote all the right words in this anniversary post so I prepared for it even though it was so unlike me to prepare for anything. This was the first ending I wrote:
Someone told me that when moving on, we should allow ourselves to look back whenever we feel the need, to acknowledge the loss and accept the sadness before moving forward again. I have found that this need has steadily diminished for me over the past year.
I am almost there. But let this be one of those few moments when I look back.
A very emo ending, soaked in regret, served so raw. That was exactly what I would have been expected to write in my old blog; very Ex Jason.
This morning, however, I read some stuff that my ex wrote about his boyfriend, and I was surprised to find myself smiling when I finished it. He wrote with such joy, so much that it was contagious. I can’t help but feel happy for him.
That made me realize something. What kept me from moving on was not regret after all. If it were, I would have been devastated to have it shoved in my face that he was really out of reach. It was actually guilt that trapped me. That was why I wanted so much to fix what I broke. But from what I read, he’s no longer broken and it I think his boyfriend is better for him than I ever was. Everything worked itself out in the end, and I now know for sure that we are better off today than we would have been if we had tried to stay together.
I guess this is finally the closure I’ve been trying to get for so long. It’s funny that this hallelujah moment had to happen the day before I was supposed to publish my emo anniversary post. Maybe I’m really not meant to write anything as Ex Jason anymore. I have to stop wallowing in guilt. Philip had already forgiven me a long time ago, all that’s left is for me to forgive myself. That was all I ever had to do to move on.
With this, I am finally letting go of that last thread that has kept me from truly taking that jump off the edge. I’ve held back long enough. It’s time that I finally stop being Philip’s ex. Now I can truly start being John’s man.