He was totally outgoing and funny, and the moment we met, we connected immediately. We became best friends, we hung out all the time and did everything together. We went on road trips, we partied, we did nothing, we did everything. Nothing was too silly or impossible with him.

He was there for me and I was there for him.

He taught me how to confidently drive a car. He dropped me at work when my shift started at 5am. He looked after me whenever I got drunk. I was the rock in his life. We were companions, playmates, and supporters.

Maybe a year into this beautiful friendship we kissed. I remember the moment very well. I ran out of the room just after the kiss, sat on the bathroom floor and held my head in both hands. I was breathing heavily. It was a moment of shock and I was not sure if I had done the right thing, but at the same time I knew there was no going back.

The closeness we had developed somehow made a love relationship the next natural move.

Not much changed other than the physical addition and we started living together. We cuddled a lot. I loved it. Time passed, and it continued to be very natural and blissful.

Yet, looking back now, I know that I took him for granted.

I didn’t make him the priority in my life. Instead I started working on my career and spent most days and evenings with colleagues. I was not thinking much about how it made him feel that he hardly ever saw me during the week, and that he often had no idea about my whereabouts. I felt entitled to make all decisions alone and for myself. He didn’t complain much. He probably didn’t get the opportunity to do so and he didn’t claim it.

With time, we also had very little sex. Because I didn’t want to.

I broke up with him once, it must have been in our third year together. I had a short affair with a colleague, my boyfriend never knew, but then we got back together very quickly. It must have been the great company and the comfort, we just got along so well. I basically told myself that maybe I don’t need sex. Once a friend of mine stayed with us and I remember one conversation we had that totally shocked me. He simply put into words what I already knew. To him we seemed like brother and sister. That nailed it, but things were fine, I thought, so no need for change.

A while later though, probably in the fifth year of our relationship, everything changed.

I went on a longer trip with a friend, someone my boyfriend didn’t particularly like. There was some drama ahead of this trip because I made this decision very quickly and my boyfriend was surprised and upset that I wanted to travel without him. I shook it, or him, off. I wanted to do it and I didn’t want to deal with him.

I was in Asia for two months and by the end of the trip I met someone else. It was magical. I had an amazing time and all my passion was back in an instance. I was on fire. I decided to extend my travels for another ten days and spend more time with my new flame. I knew I had to call my boyfriend, but I put it off. I was in the moment, I felt alive, and I was very far away from my life at home. And then something strange happened. I still don’t have an explanation for it. In my excitement I sent an email to a friend telling her about my decision to stay, and that I had fallen in love.

But I didn’t send this email to my friend, I sent it to my boyfriend instead.

I only realized this mistake when he called me. This was probably one of the most awkward moments in my life. He was really upset and asked me what was going on. I was not straight about it and I could hear his distress. I just wanted to get off the phone, so I lied to him and said there was nothing, but at the same time refused to say much and postponed speaking until I returned.

Back home, I immediately broke up with him. Within only two weeks I quit my job and organized some money to leave again, this time for longer. During these weeks I stayed with him in our flat. He was still sweet to me. He could not believe that this was actually happening. A lot of tears were shed but I had made up my mind. I had to go, and I did it coldheartedly. I think we even had sex once. What a brainless move that was.

For many years after this ugly ending, it bothered me that he never wanted to know why I did this.

I thought that it was his fault that he didn’t want to see other sides of me, my dark sides, and that he didn’t want to deal with conflicts. I was convinced that the sadness he was carrying with him would only become less if he knew my reasons.

I have been a fool to think that I knew what he should be doing.

The truth is I ran away. There was no real cooldown, no fadeout, no time to reflect. I judged him to justify my own wrongdoing. I covered up my own lack of responsibility, and the relationship issues I had. I only saw myself. I thought that he should still be interested in me and that he should reflect. I never really thought about him, what he went through, why he was the way he was. I didn’t respect him. I made myself superior. I denied him the right to have a say. I abused his love and loyalty for me and did to him what I never want to experience myself: to be backstabbed by someone I trust. There was nothing unclear about this, so what was there to ask?

I didn’t need him anymore. I wanted more and different things and he was only holding me back.

This seems more foolish to me now than ever. Once you start asking yourself the question, what really matters in life, your perspective changes. Today my answer is love. And this is what he gave me, unconditional love, and I took it for granted. I thought that there is something else. And yes, there is always something else. At each corner there is something else. Other places, other men, different sex, there are endless people with a different story, occupation, hobby, lifestyle, countless things to do and learn. But when is it enough? Does the new only lie in the far away? If you always crave the other, how can you ever see what’s in front of you? I was chasing the better unknown. And when you chase, as in my case, you are never satisfied. Maybe with age you appreciate slow more than fast. I have slowed down immensely.

I’m married now. For the first time I wanted to give another person this commitment.

And yet, my past warns me. What if the person I am with now suddenly is also not good enough for me? What if I feel trapped again? What will I do when the sex becomes boring, the attraction goes, and we have nothing left to talk about? I’m a bit scared, but I hope that I have learned my lesson. It might be as simple as going out with the clear goal of not getting drunk on an evening and to leave after three drinks. It works. Maybe the intention that I entered this relationship with, to be truthful, fair, loving and committed, will help. I don’t know. But I want to be aware of the mistake I made and not repeat it. I will not allow myself the easy exit if there is no way around the exit itself. No one should be in an unhappy relationship, but that starts long before the breakup.

To be honest, all my breakups were quick and merciless. Not only relationships, but changing jobs, moving countries, it was all done quickly. I never allowed myself proper endings. By not giving myself slow and loving goodbye’s or time for reflection, I prevented myself from actually moving on. I was haunted because previous chapters were not concluded with care. That’s something I am changing now. I see the value of a slower ending. Let the good and the bad be there. Is enduring pain not part of life?

Maybe my ex-boyfriend was way ahead of me.

He took a lot of time to get over our relationship. He went through all stages of the ending, the suffering, anger, forgiveness and the resurrection. I envy that. He rose into the new, a new relationship and a new life, while staying true to himself and understanding what he wants in life. That’s beautiful. He is beautiful. Maybe what is unsaid is not what my issues were but actually a thank you for the beautiful time we had together and for the love we shared.


Also published on Medium.

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