Alive as Always: Lessons from My Finished 9-Year Relationship

Today would've marked the 10-year anniversary to my previous romantic relationship—the first one I've ever had. Starting as we were both entering adulthood, this relationship began at the cusp of major changes in our lives at the time. Alas, that relationship ended towards the end of 2019. I really thought it'd last forever. I really thought we would be our only partners. But 17-year-old me couldn't foresee the changes that were about to happen; she couldn't know the developments that unraveled along the way. She couldn't even imagine that I would be the one pulling the trigger. All that being said, I would say, we had a pretty good and healthy relationship. For a while, we were happy. Something like that—one that has been with you for so long—created a lasting impression, imprinted a series of habits and reflexes to fall back on. These are things you can't just shake off in a hurry. I don't like to think of it as a failure. I'd like to think that the relationship has served its purpose; he, however, might beg to differ. The relationship and the ending both changed my life and, if anything, there are so many things I could take away from it. If you'll allow me, I'd love to share a few major ones with you.

People Change, Priorities Shift

When you've known someone for more than 5 years, 7 years, you might believe to know that person very well and nothing that they do will surprise you. You'd think, even if you're far apart, you have a strong enough connection to know that you both are heading in the same direction. Unfortunately, this isn't always the case. We talked everyday—via instant message, but still—and had video call sessions every week, but somehow we missed out on the imminent and profound changes that were going on within each other. It wasn't until the very end did I understand that we were growing apart. We looked back and somehow we missed the fork in the road that separated us. You could say that this wouldn't have happened if we weren't in an LDR, or if we had communicated things better—you might be right. But I also knew that the changes happening within me came without my noticing either—and I would bet the same with him. Before we knew it, he and I wanted different things and had different visions of what our lives would look like in the future. We grew up together, but ended up becoming very different people.

All the Things Left Unsaid Matter

If I could point anything out as the biggest factor to this breakup, this could be it. There were things that we held in from one another, feelings that went unexpressed. I could blame him for not opening up enough, despite my efforts to assure him it was all fine, but I, too, kept a lot of information to myself. I didn't express to him how I'd been living practically like a zombie for the past 5 years prior to our breakup. I just swallowed the feelings and thoughts down like a bad pill, thinking this has all been my own choice and I should pay for it. Towards the end, there were a lot of feelings and thoughts and information that, had they been delivered to each other, might have changed things for the better. For a while, I thought we had a pretty good way of communicating, because he could always read my thoughts. However, therein lies the problem—because, apparently, it allowed him to believe he could read me like a book, like I was incredibly transparent to him. I used to love that about him, but now it just drives me mad to remember. Unfortunately, it turns out, there were a lot he still didn't know—or else, he would've been able to see this coming.

No One Else Is Involved

I'm not sure if this happens specifically to my relationship, or other long-term relationships feel the same way, but after being together for so many years, people tend to put us on a pedestal—and this suffocated the hell out of me. People had either good or bad things to say about our relationship, without really knowing what it looks like on the inside—and they aren't entitled to a view, to be honest. They either thought one loved the other more or we were so wholesome we were practically married. Some would say we were too close together, while others believe we never fought. For a while, it was a pleasant feeling to get people guessing what kind of relationship we had—and laughed at their assumptions together. Trouble arose, however, whenever we had conflicts or when I started to become unhappy. I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone—except my sister—about my hangups or troubled thoughts. Even towards the end, when I contemplated about ending it, everyone else's opinion drove my thoughts and actions—until I decided enough is enough. No matter how many people weighed in, no matter what they thought, at the end of the day, we were the only ones in this relationship and this decision should only concern us.

Goodbye Is Such a Strong Word

Everyone who had ever had a breakup would tell you, especially if they'd been together for a while: ending a relationship with a partner often means ending relationships with some others too. It could be their family, their friends or your mutual friends. It could be the place they live in—including their neighbours and the surrounding areas. It could even be things you shared together—be it an actual item, a tradition, a song, a movie, a colour. And, if you didn't have a toxic relationship, whether or not you're the one to end it, it could hurt like hell. Personally, I cried for several months afterwards. Especially for a relationship that lasted as long as mine did, ending it would've been painful either way—whatever the reason, I find. We grew up together. There were 9 years between us—that's a lot of people to know! But, at the end of the day, it was hardest to say goodbye to the partner. For me, he was my best friend and family for so long, so of course it was heartbreaking to let go of those sides of him too. I didn't get to choose to part with him as a boyfriend, but kept him as a confidante. That's not how it works—except, perhaps, if you're one of the lucky ones.

Old Habits Die Hard

Don't get me wrong: I do not want to get back together. But, I can't deny that he had been a major part of my life for almost a decade. We spent several hours and days and weeks and months together. Yes, we were in LDR for the last 5 years, but even so, we could develop habits and inside jokes and whatnot together. While I never looked back on my decision, it's hard to shake off all the mini reflexes that came with the relationship. For the first month or so, I missed speaking German with him, being introduced to numerous games, exchanging inside jokes and hearing him talk endlessly about all sorts of high-tech devices. I missed consulting him about my computer. I missed reminiscing about all the places we visited or had dwelled in Europe. I would recall a fond memory from the past and be reminded that a piece of that puzzle is now forever erased from my life—and it was completely my fault. I would want to make sure he's doing well and taking care of himself. But I can't do any of those things anymore. It was a fact that I had to accept—and slowly, but surely, I started to build a whole new life and move farther away from him. I had to drag myself by the legs to do it, but it's doable.

I promised myself this will be the last post I write on this relationship. I've started a new one now, and I'd like to do things differently. He is such a good person, although sometimes with questionable decisions—I guess that's where we found common ground at first—and I'm determined to keep him safe and happy. And you, yeah you, if you're reading this—although I can't imagine you do—I hope you'll find happiness elsewhere soon, if you haven't already. I hope you'll find a girl who you are willing to open up to more than you did with me. Someone who will treat you right, without sacrificing and compromising parts of herself. Please know that I mean you no harm and wish you nothing but immense love and happiness.