It was 3 hours into my 14-hour flight. He’d been so distant ever since the semester ended. Maybe even before then, but I just didn’t want to notice it. I refused to. After all, he was my boyfriend.

He didn’t care where I was, how long my layovers were, or how I was doing. He didn’t even ask. He was off with some girl who came before me in his life. A friend. I could feel the coldness of his treatment tenfold up here. I couldn’t text him no matter how much I longed for him. But all I could think about was him and how much I’d been trying to keep him from leaving.

Then, I saw the wifi menu in my seat pocket.

My mood lit up for a fraction of a second. I thought I could talk to him again. I craved reassurance from him. I missed him so much. But I took the wifi menu into my hands and I saw the charges. 

It was $10 for an hour and $18 for 24. My hands instinctively hovered over the purchase button, but before they could do anything, I realized what purchasing that in-flight wifi would actually mean. 

I couldn’t spare the $10… because I knew deep down that all that would be waiting for me was disappointment. The text that I wanted so badly to receive from him wasn’t going to be in my notifications. He wasn’t going to be among the people who would be texting me despite knowing that I’m still on the plane just because they miss me. He wasn’t counting down the seconds to when he’d be able to talk to me again. 

That text was a figment of my imagination. It was wishful thinking. It was a version of him I created in my head to soften my disappointment. And so, I put the menu back down and clutched my chest in pain. This “man”, the person that I gave my entire heart and soul to, wasn’t going to notice my absence. Because 14 hours of not talking to each other feels like 14 seconds to him, but 14 years to me. 

The reality of my relationship sunk in rapidly. I cried silently about it, trying to hold back each tear that defiantly rolled down my cheek anyway. Why do I choose him? Why? WHY?! Why did I ever let myself fall for him?!

Every fear I had about us crashed into me so forcefully all at once. I was all alone with my thoughts up there, with no one to turn to. I realized he was never my safe place to land, but I was always his. I made sure I was his to keep, and his only, but he never deigned to reassure me of the same notion.

I knew when his eyes fell upon another; when his head turned to see a beauty that wasn’t mine while our hands were still intertwined, but I turned away so I could justify staying with him. Even when he laid with another I justified it. “I didn’t tell him I loved him enough.”

I lived in a world of unimaginable anxiety just so he could have a certainty he didn’t want in his life.

But he wasn’t like that at first. Maybe that’s why it took so long for me to realize the pieces of myself that were already gone. He broke me down, strike by strike, piece by piece, but made sure I didn’t look down at the damage he’d caused. My eyes stayed fixated on him. And even though others could only see the shell of the lively person I once was, I could only see him. 

Even after the reality he promised me was long gone, I held on so tightly to the promises he made me in the beginning. I could still see that life he wanted for us even though it was blurred by the darkness of his mistakes. Those promises still echoed in my ears, tying me to a leash he could always draw me in closer with. 

I hated myself for it. I despised how weak I was to ever let him in. I loathed how foolish I was to ever believe in his lies. 

“HOW COULD YOU BE THIS WEAK! YOU LET HIM HURT YOU! YOU LET HIM TAKE EVERYTHING AWAY!”

“I didn’t know you could disappoint yourself this severely… you’ve lost everything that made you, you. Why did you let him do that?” 

“Who are you?”

These thoughts attacked me over and over so violently until I lost any ability to breathe on that plane. A flight attendant walked past me and realized what was happening much faster than he ever could. She begged me to allow her to request an emergency landing to the Captain, but all I could do was squeeze her wrists tightly until I could regain my senses. With every thought that attacked my mind, my hands held on tighter. I could tell she was in pain too. 

But no matter what was happening to me, I didn’t want to be in his country anymore. It was a place that only brought more agony to me and most importantly, that’s where he and all his betrayals were. So I never told him about this.

After a while, the air started to fill my lungs again. I was conscious enough to feel the streaks of tears that had stained my face. My mouth felt dry and my body was ice cold. This was yet another consequence of him that I had to survive. 

I was exhausted from living this way. I was exhausted from living. 

I realized how weary I was from having to constantly put in the effort to talk to him. He made it clear that I was always too much; that even wanting to hear your love’s voice in times of trouble was unacceptable. To him, It was ridiculous to depend on your partner when things got hard. It hurts; it may even be wrong, but it’s what he thinks. 

He told me he didn’t have much experience with relationships; that he didn’t know what he was doing. He used this as a weapon to keep me beside him and before I even knew it, I was the one wielding that same sword. I protected him from anyone that tried to wake me up from my trance. But even in my blind-sided state I could see that it doesn’t take an experienced person to realize what shitty behavior is. 

So right then and there on that plane, I made a promise to myself to walk away. No more lies. No more manipulations. 

I will walk away until he realizes how much of a light I was in his life. Until the days he spends with his friends feel empty without the warmth of a partner. Until he yearns for my presence so much that he cries and clutches his chest in pain in return. And if he doesn’t, I will put me first. I swear to God I will put me first.

*****

Of course, in the end, he ended our story in the worst way possible. Through a simple text so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions. It was befitting to his personality and a befitting end to our cursed beginning.

I knew what he was going to say before he even had the chance to. That he was just figuring himself out. That he thought the key to his happiness was in the warm embrace of a relationship. But what he doesn’t realize is that in his journey of finding himself, I was collateral damage. So I wasn’t just his ex, I was also his experiment.

If the world knew just how much he took from me the heavens would shatter. He introduced me to a new kind of pain I never thought I deserved to feel. I hated the mornings that came after him and every shower I took to erase any trace of him. But the drops of my own blood that stained me from his doing isn’t something I could wash off. 

I didn’t deserve the cruelty I bestowed upon myself. It took me a while to see that. I wasn’t weak. I loved him. That is a powerful thing. I cared about him day and night and believed in the promises he made me. I loved the world he drew for us and every stroke of the brush he used to paint our future with. Little did I know that our paintings were more colorful in my eyes than in his. At least at the end. So that wasn’t weakness, it was faith. And faith is a beautiful thing to have in any relationship. I am grateful I had the honor of feeling what it could be like. 

I may miss him and I may crave for him, but I know to protect myself. Time and time again my patience has been tested when the thought of him crosses my mind. He made me love the warmth of a physical touch that I thought I never needed. His physical touch. My cheeks remember the feeling of his chest when I lay my head to rest upon them and my body remembers the curves of his arms when I rest in his embrace. The cookie-dough smell of his hair is embedded in my memory and so is the smile that he so rarely gave me in the end. This is withdrawal. 

Trying to rebuild was the hardest part. How do you know where to start gluing from when there are a billion unrecognizable shattered pieces of yourself? Those pieces didn’t even gravitate to me, but they were undeniably drawn to him. He was a part of me. 

It took an insurmountable amount of strength to sever his hold on me and an even more powerful will to rise up as the person I once was before him. It broke me. Day in and day out it destroyed me. But I fought. And my heart finally doesn’t belong to him anymore. It just isn’t ready to love another. 

I am proud of the strength I gained from him, because I survived him. 

I really did.