Somewhere, sometime long ago, it was decided what was appropriate for mourning the end of the relationship. This was based on the length of the relationship, the type of relationship, and the age of the participants in the relationship. Well, it’s all crap.
Who decided that if the relationship wasn’t official then it wasn’t appropriate to be sad it’s over?
Who decided that if you are under a certain age then it is just puppy love and should therefore get over it?
Who decided that if the relationship lasted under a certain amount of time then you shouldn’t be mourning it?
Because of ignorant concepts like this, we are forced to pretend like we’re fine, when in reality, it feels like we’re dying inside. Our peers say they don’t understand, they get annoyed with us, and they make us feel even worse.
And he… well, he just doesn’t care. I mean, yes, he cares when he’s forced to face your pain, but he would really prefer it if you would be a lady about it. Apparently “real ladies” don’t cry when the person they want doesn’t want them anymore. Apparently “real ladies” don’t attempt to fix a relationship.
Well, you know what? I guess by your standards I’m not a real lady then.
No, you don’t deserve my tears, but if there is one unequivocal reality that I have come to learn in this world, it’s that pain is the one thing you can’t avoid. If you don’t take the time to mourn, no matter how shunned doing so is by your peers, it will last forever.
I take my private time, whenever I need it, and I let myself be sad. I let myself cry. I let myself be however I need to be so that I can be okay. I let myself ignore the pressures of society and the rules I am supposed to be bound by. I let myself be me, exactly how I’m feeling, with no regrets.
There’s no shame in that. Mourning is a part of life. You are allowed to be sad for what once was, and never will be again. I cry when someone I barely know dies and no one would dare shame me for that. How is the end of a relationship any different? You are gone and you are never coming back.
Sure, your body might wander by every once in awhile and speak to me in your voice, but it’s not you. It’s not the you that was once mine. That you is gone forever and I should be allowed to mourn the death of you for however long I need to. I can do whatever I want when I am by myself; I can cry, I can sit in silence, I can privately rage at you…
… a Teddy Bear also helps in situations like this.