starlightsaoirse

six months. six months is apparently the amount of time it takes to get over four years, four years spent building a life, four years of planning a future, four years with a man i thought was my fucking soulmate, and man does it make me kind of sick to my stomach (not to mention how ridiculous it makes me feel) to type that word with him in my head now.

we broke up in mid-august, after a summer of agonizing. maybe that's why it only took me six months to get over it -- even though we had my entire college experience together, and my entire high school years spent mooning over him, i spent three more months thinking about ending things. and really, the entire year prior being miserable. now, with some distance, i'm able to think about these things, and realize that things weren't as good as i desperately wanted to believe they were. and they weren't as bad, either, as i desperately wanted to believe they were, immediately after. there were shiningly bright moments, times when i was as happy as i ever was, even up until the end. and there were dismally low moments, which too many of my friends are all too acquainted with, times when i'd sit outside my dorm, huddled over my cell phone, at midnight or two or four a.m., sobbing or yelling, over things that i didn't even understand why we were fighting over.

i guess it didn't really take six months, for me to get over it. over him, over us. it was the past six months, and the three months of summer, and one brilliant month of july and ulster project, a charming irishman; it was the last year, year and a half, maybe even two years, of our relationship, where things started to go to hell. it was the natural progression of a relationship that fell apart.

and now, after a month and a half of not talking to him, of him not being in my life, i am freer than i've ever been, and i'm finally, for the first time maybe ever, a whole person, secure in myself and all of the things that go with that, happy.