I have learned lessons from previous lovers on what it feels to be given up on. And how you can give give give words of love, handmade love, love in letters and boxes and food and gifts and still only receive empty sentiments posing as love. Posing as care. Posing as something worth holding on to.
I would open boxes of precious memories of when love was written plainly on his face. But he told me. He told me. He told me to forget the “him” from back then because he will never be the same. Not ever. And everything about him now, the love, the joy, the hope, it is all gone and never coming back.
I have learned to give in for love. Even if what he asks is unreasonable. Even if what he wants hurts and aches and I would “feel it” tomorrow and that I would just “have to get used to it”. I would cry and say no but he would keep going and going because I promised and promised and said yes to make him happy. To see him smile. To hear him say he loved me when he was done and it was over and I could rest.
I learned not to miss him anymore when I would go days without hearing from him. I have learned not to take his threats or screams or guilt trips seriously.
I have learned that sunsets are pretty, even during a breakup.
I have learned to take the keys from him. To be the driver. So that I could be in control of the destination and drive where I wanted. And not let him take me to some place I did not want to go.
But most of all I learned to be more courageous because I don’t want to repeat these lessons again. I want to go through something better. Something more gentle. Something more