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The Pink Press

Heartbroken & Possibly Still in Love with Someone Who’s One Thousand Miles Away

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About a year ago I met someone and went on a date. We got to know each other over a nice meal in the city and immediately I was memorized by his humor, his intellect, and his good looks.

Things were hazy in the beginning. I never thought much of what could possibly happen out of our casual dating, but time created a rollercoaster of emotions and circumstances. I had just gotten out of a relationship that I was unsure about, and truthfully I was ready for something different.

I knew that my last relationship—although nice—was not meant to be. I was tired of feeling stuck. So I left, and met someone else. And then someone else. And in-between someone else, I stuck with that one someone and kept going back.

There was something promising about this individual. My friends didn’t understand our dynamic. But to me, he was charming. He made me laugh, he listened. He did plenty of things that made me feel special.

Perhaps then I wasn’t in love with him as I am now. But overtime, through a whirlwind of feelings, I decided that I didn’t want him, felt stifled by his presence, got closer to him and then finally realized that I loved him.

For a while I told myself that it couldn’t possibly be true, that I was simply infatuated and loved the idea of having someone there.

But now that he’s moved a thousand miles away, it’s becoming more increasingly difficult to wrap my head around everything that has just happened.

There are nights when I fall asleep happy. There are nights when I fall asleep crying. 

I wake up thinking about “us” first thing in the morning, and before I go to bed I think of “us” once more. 

The worst part of it all is that I may possibly be doing this all on my own. I am afraid that what I’m experiencing is just another case of “unrequited love.”

The worst part about it all is that the minute they reach out, you drop everything else and pay attention.


I ask myself, why not try and love me from afar? If what we had truly meant a lot, why not love me from afar?

Why not attempt to grow, to blossom, to evolve. To hold on to something that comes rare?

If what we have here is truly love, then why not try?

I’m heartbroken at the possibility that this might just be it. That after everything, after all the memories, a single move might just erase all of that away.

Most importantly, I’m heartbroken at the idea that I may be the only one crying, the only one trying, the only one not wanting to be left in the blind about the dynamic of our relationship.

If a relationship is even there.

I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of “loving” from afar. I’m tired of empty words and unspoken promises.

I’m tired, because I want to move on but I can’t. I’m stuck.

And there’s possibly nothing else that I can do.

No matter how much I force myself to be strong and pick myself up again, I know that there will be more tears and nights where I fall asleep crying.

Loving someone when you’re not sure where their head’s at is possibly the most thrilling, heartbreaking, chaotic experience you could ever imagine. 

The worst part about it all is that the minute they reach out, you drop everything else and pay attention.

Because that one thing, love, forces you to do so.

I want to move on.

But I know tomorrow, if he reaches out, I might just listen.

So then the cycle begins all over again.