INNITY

Love has a funny way of coming and going.

When I first met him, it came in the form of an extended interview. Two hours of stolen time. Hearts fluttering and eyes dancing at the most unexpected encounter. I didn’t think I would find love on the steps of the auditorium. It was a regular Wednesday, and he was just one of the many people I was obligated to talk to. I wasn’t even looking for a relationship having just turned down three dates the week before. But unknowingly, he found his way into my guarded heart. Without warning, twenty minutes turned into two hours, and within two weeks, I started calling him mine.

When Love left, he ran to 10 Bond Street and picked out a carry-on suitcase. He efficiently emptied his half of the luggage we shared and headed home to LA without me. Every night I came home to an empty hotel room, unsure if I should be happy about the extra space or find the silence eerie. A week later when I arrived home in LA, our houses were emptied. It was moving season. We packed each other into boxes, exchanged goodbyes, and he flew out to Hawaii with our friends – a trip we said we’d all go together. I slept alone in the dark since then.

Tonight, grief gently woke me up at 4:45 in the morning, and the silence of the night without the sound of his breathing was deafening. The bed felt cold without the heat of his body, and the new apartment was too big for just me. Heartache demanded my undivided attention, making it impossible to fall back asleep. There was no point fighting; I stayed up watching the downtown skyline turn into sunrise. From soft twinkles to gentle rays of orange and pink – a view we used to admire together. Finally, I have it all to myself. I should be gloating, I thought so bitterly.

The last two and a half years were a time filled with endless laughter, deep conversations, and unexpected wonders. Immediately, we bonded over our shared passion for food, zest for life, and curiosity for the future. We’d lose track of time talking past midnight and restaurant hunt all across the city. I always admired the way he spoke as he so effortlessly strung words together like ballads. And I, too, seemed to have dazzled him all the same. I remember so distinctively the way he’d look at me as if I was magic, smitten and in awe with every little thing. He could never believe his luck in landing such a wonderful girlfriend and vowed to cherish me to his best abilities – a promise I still hold deep in my heart.

The separation between us was amicable. In the name of self-discovery and individual growth, we let each other go. But truthfully, our relationship asked for things he couldn’t give, and I couldn’t keep waiting to be loved properly. It wasn’t because there wasn’t enough love mutually and trust me when I say we’ve tried. We’ve fought for each other hard, but sometimes life happens, and even our best efforts can’t salvage what’s already broken. When we first met, we found each other in broken places. Life hasn’t exactly been kind, and even if so, no one makes it out without scars. It’s then no surprise that individual trauma became collective trauma, and we treaded towards treacherous waters trying to save one another.

Consciously and unconsciously, we prioritised the other person above ourselves and neglected our individual needs. Eventually, resentment grew, and the weight of our lovers simply got too heavy. Pain exploded left and right – an inevitable outcome, and unfortunately, it seemed kinder to kiss each other goodbye before any more harm could be inflicted on the person we cared about most. Our desperate attempts to make each other happy terribly backfired because we ignorantly sacrificed ourselves in the name of love – the only way we knew how to love – oblivious that we set ourselves up for failure.

This wasn’t my first heartbreak, but I had to learn once again the hard way that love simply isn’t enough.

Oh, how much I wish it was. Anyone who tells you otherwise either lucked out in life or they’re selling a dream they also desperately want to believe in. At first glance, love looks like a sacred union that can conquer all. It’s so beautiful we’re inclined to believe in its grandiosity, but the truth is, long-term partnership requires much more than deep infatuation. Love can withstand the great challenges of life, but even so, there are thresholds it cannot begin to comprehend. All we can do is try our best and hold onto the people we care about, but sometimes even that grip – both our grip on them and their grip on us – can become painful.

Sometimes, we let people go not because we don’t love them. Instead, it’s quite the opposite. Sometimes we let people go because we love them too much and know that our love hinders them. Through time, people grow and things change. What we once wanted can become vestigial, and what we once needed can turn out inadequate. We can’t resist the ebbs and flows of time just to remain stagnant in order to stay in love. We can’t consistently be everything for our partners if we aren’t for ourselves. And most importantly, we can’t always be in the position to give love no matter how much we try or how much our lovers deserve better.

Unfortunately, we can love someone incredibly deeply and give them our all, only to end up not enough. When we find ourselves in this abysmal position, the best course of action is to simply let go despite remorse. Save our lovers the agony of fighting alongside us and allow them the opportunity to seek for more. Letting go then becomes the greatest act of love because we want what’s best, not what’s comfortable. For the greater good, we revoke control and allow love to fall apart because it’s kinder than holding them prisoner in our wretched cage of love.

The night before we went our separate ways, we finalised our breakup over a candlelit dinner accompanied with some cocktails. We visited the restaurant we’ve been wanting to try and shared a gentle evening together. All night, we looked longingly into each other’s eyes, laughed, and cried. Few words were exchanged – we didn’t need them to communicate – and we gave it our all to make time suspend. Ironically, it was one of the most beautiful separations I’ve ever witnessed. Despite the sadness, we were amicable in the most genuine way. There were no jabs, no ill-wishing, no immaturity. We simply admired and appreciated the wonderful person we were both lucky enough to have called ours.

Obviously, there was an outcome that we wanted. There was a future we saw so clearly but dinner helped us to realise that vision, although once shared, has come to an inevitable fork. Unknowingly, we found ourselves at extremely different places in our healing, and while I am ready to start sprinting, he is merely learning how to walk. It’s unfair to ask either of us to forsake our own journeys to match one another’s pace. In choosing ourselves, we are also choosing each other. We are unshackling from the burdens this relationship imposed and embracing our individual futures.

Sometimes goodbyes can truly be beautiful. As raw and bittersweet as they feel, they also signify the ending of something wonderful, and indicate the beginning of new splendours. Sometimes, as much as we’re terrified to look forward, we must let go of the good in the present and welcome the better of the future. Saying goodbye to him wasn’t easy. It was one of the harder things asked of me, but it was necessary. When I got home, I was in pieces, but I didn’t cry because, in that moment, I recognised that love didn’t pass us by – we simply found newer and greater love in the form of self-love, and that is the highest of all love.

My muscle tingles and my voice shakes out of both anxiety and excitement as I whisper out loud, “I am ready to be my own person and put myself first.” For the first time in my life, I’m ready to chase after all that I’ve dreamed of, and I’m beyond proud. He always said that together, we were two small bugs fighting the great big world, and our separation doesn’t change that. We are still on the same team fighting the same bad guys, we’re just on different paths. So, until we meet again for the very first time. Until one day, life brings these two small bugs together. Bugs unite.

xx