Be kind, to yourself

(I do not post on social media, I have never posted on Reddit before, and aside of this account I have no other social media. So if I sound like a grandpa, kindly forgive me).

It was raining that evening. I was in my room, reading Giovanni’s Room and drinking my coffee. I had a long hard day, and I had to study in the evening. A much needed break. The plot was thickening, the main character’s estranged girlfriend had suddenly announced that she was returning to him. My phone buzzed and broke my dream like state, brought me back to reality. It were audio messages from my ex.

To give you a context, I started dating my ex when I was in college. We both met while volunteering, and she wanted to be a writer. I loved it, we spent hours talking about genres and scents and bookstores and prose. We became best friends, and then fell in love. Unfortunately she had to move away to a college far away from my hometown, as did I. The distance between us was massive. But to make things work, I would save up money and buy tickets to go see her thousands of miles away. I had nothing to give her except long walks and endless chatter as we strolled through city squares and beaches. I would write her poetry, sing her songs, do extra classes at the uni to secure a job for the life she wanted to build, and that life demanded support for she was the artistic one. Not that she asked me to, but because I wanted to. It was perfect, well, sort of, other than this constant gnawing feeling in my stomach. Something never felt right, as if I needed to impress her all the time. She would withdraw from time to time. When you are young and idle, your energy fills in for the lack of emotions.

She finished her college and started finding a job. Since I was studying STEM, I had a year longer. She found her job, and moved even further than before. From calling everyday we settled to calling once a month, and that too when I would dial in 3-4 times, wanting to talk, wanting to let her know what is happening to us as if she had moved away from a house on fire, but still had to come back to it. I gave up calling. I gave up texting.

There came a time when I knew she was inevitably drinking alcohol in order to “find herself”. I wanted to meet her during the festive holidays but she would make some excuses. Each day my heart sank further.

The contact was almost zero. She would open my texts and like a message from time to time. That was all I needed, all I had. I would look at that text written by me “I hope you are okay” and the little red heart below it paled all of my academic achievements.

Soon enough, one of her friends told me that she has told her friends we have broken up. I called her, she did not pick my call. She texted me “I am busy”. No more. I told her that she did me wrong. It was in December 2023. I did not see her or call her again.

It is 2025 now. For more than one year I was Thoreau in Walden. I was Shelley’s yearning in Prometheus Unbound and Neruda’s nostalgia in The Song of Despair. I lived to meet with my few good friends once or twice a month. I started doing the things I loved. I left my job and started studying electronics. I got a good internship too! I love what I do (When you love what you do your heart feels like it’s spilling honey onto a pancake).

My ex realised something, I do not know, and started DMing me on my phone from time to time since January. However, each time she would come and see that I am still alone, and relatively content, she would leave me before I could talk the talk.

I realised this is another loop of control. I politely asked her to let me go else I would have to block her (Obviously medical emergencies are welcome, but not friendly conversations).

Then one day a long audio note arrived. She sweared that I was her soulmate and she did not know how I kept my calm and withstood what she did to me. I did not want to escalate it, so I told her that I cannot judge her but ofc I felt hurt. However, a lot of good things came out of the breakup.

As soon as I wanted to share more, again, she was to be found in bars and clubs.

I wrote to her that I am not interested in her magic show, and if she were really guilty she would have respected my boundary and not whatever she was doing.

I had a habit of self harm for the last ten years. I would blame myself more for everything wrong in my life. However more than what we can count must align to see something in its fruition. What I did for her, thankfully God, or luck, presented me with greater opportunities of service and love towards friends and strangers alike. I stopped slapping myself. I started really embracing the good in me. I will soon start my master’s now. The bigger achievement is that I stopped self harming.

I narrated my story because so many people posting here talk about loosing trust. It is difficult. I was ghosted in a relationship where I did all I could. I was neglected and abused as a child. I do not want to platform myself, however, without being said I must say that I am quite proud of the maturity I have developed. The world will tell you that all men want is sex and all women want is money, and amongst all those people are your adversaries too! Do not listen to them!

So many of the people here have centred that instance into their present. In hating your ex you should not begin resenting all that is good about you. All that loves life and living. All that does not care about transactional bonds.

“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone.” Think about it sometime.