Three Months

The three-month rule says you have to wait for three months after you broke up before you start dating again. And today, that’s exactly how long it has been. Three whole months.

So there I was at a bar one Monday night, armed with every intention to get drunk with my two male buddies while waiting for the slightest indication that he still wanted to work things out. The week before that was like my journey to and through hell - rejected calls, alibis and sometimes, nothing from him. I gave him an ultimatum - if I didn’t get any call from him that night, it would all be over. Come 12 midnight, I received my goodbye and thank you text message. Just like that.

First month. Cry a river.
I used to think that our break-up would kill me. It was a two-year relationship with my first love and best friend for over ten years. But to my surprise, I was actually fine. The people around me told me I was actually blooming. It was inexplicably strange.

But it wasn’t a walk in the park. Yes, I cried, although my reaction was a bit delayed. A picture of me weeks after the break-up would have shown a thoroughly depressed young lady crying herself to sleep and having only a pillow to console her. Yes, I got bitter. I bashed him with hatred-filled messages for so many times. Yes, I was angry. I called him up crying and asking if this is the happiness he imagined for me. And yes, I cried more when we finally met again after two months; that time, we were no longer lovers and not even friends. And that status hasn’t changed at all.

When we were still together, we had a deal: breaking up will never be an option. But then, I realized how the differences just crawl in, and no matter how much you love each other, you just can’t make each other happy anymore. I thought it was something like our previous break-ups, that we’d eventually be in each other’s arms. At one point, I even told him that I’d rather be miserable with him than be peaceful without him. Crazy, I know.

Second month. Build a bridge. 
I think this was the point when I realized that our relationship was on a dead end. Though I no longer grieved, it still felt like I lost a part of me somewhere and I can’t seem to get it back. But then, I started to shift my perspective on other things. I started working as an interviewer and I feel really useful, relaxed and content with that job. It doesn’t even feel like work.

During the course of my relationship with The Boy, I was only able to go out with my friends for a few times. It even came to a point that I didn’t have updates from them at all. But during the second month post break-up, I really made it a point to be with them every single week. I’m glad they were still as wonderful as they were two years ago. Immediately after the break-up, they rushed to my side and never left since then. They knew I needed them more than ever and I’m so grateful. They helped me build the bridge I’m treading on.

But I had to admit, a part of me was trying to rebel. I was out two nights a week, either drinking with friends, staying out til the wee hours of the morning. I even had another cartilage piercing. I was a mess but I was happy. I never felt that loose, or maybe even that free, for the past couple of years.

Third month. Get over it.
A part of me was still affected during the first few weeks. I hated everything that reminded me of him and us. I hated buildings and volkswagens. I hated happy couples. I remembered every single line I wrote for him; I get pissed when I hear the songs he used to sing for me. I was still bitter and depressed.

This was the month when he finally came home. We talked til the wee hours of the morning. Before we even met, my mind was made up - I want to move on.

I thought I’d freeze when he picked me up at home but I was actually fine. We talked, we laughed, he told me stories. And before the night ended, he asked me back. I cried and ranted my heart out. He let me go too easily, I went to and through hell and back just to get myself together, and now he wanted me back. Crap. I finally learned to say no.

From that point onwards, things went on a blur. This is the point where I would share how we both are right now. I could lie and say that we’re civil. But we’re actually less than that. From the night we met, a few events transpired. Unexpectedly, he just gave me more pain to deal with and that made me stand by my decision all the more. It’s all over, I’m moving on.

If there’s one thing I’m actually sad about right now, it’s the fact that we were once wonderful friends and great lovers together and now we can’t stand each other, even just for fifteen minutes. It’s just sad how two people who used to share their lives together aren’t even talking. But I guess it takes time. A lot of time.

So all this brings us to where we are today. The end of the three months rule. I am commemorating this day not because finally, I can date. I honor this day as a form of appreciation for myself. I was strong, I am strong, and being strong was the only option I had. I’m alive, I’m free and I am surrounded with loving friends and family who are all willing to put a smile on my face at any given moment. I love them and I promise to be beside them when it’s their turn to go through hell and back. And I truly appreciate my male buddies. They might be crass and rude on ordinary days but for me, they were the most protective, most supportive and most entertaining all throughout. I am so lucky to have male friends who keep me objective and strong-willed. They are like brothers to me.

And thank you God, for making this process awfully wonderful for me. You gave me a lot of detours, a lot of events that made me wiser yet happier, and a lot of people to recognize in my life. I am still a work in progress and You are incredibly patient with me. I love you.

I can certainly say I know myself better these days. I am not in a hurry to jump into another relationship. I’m taking my time, enjoying the colorful friendships I’ve rekindled. I am stronger, wiser, better. I am moving on.
Cheers! :)