#liebeskummer

„Geh oder bleib - deine Entscheidung. Ich kämpfe nicht für jemanden, der sich schon entschieden hat.“

Ich dachte stets, man kämpft um das, was man liebt. Aber wer erfüllt ist von Bequemlichkeit und Gleichgültigkeit, hat vielleicht auch nie geliebt.

It has been three years today.

We were supposed to have made it to a full three years together, but we didn’t. We have been apart since the end of November, and even before that, it was always on and off—so many fights, so many exceptional circumstances that felt life-changing at the time. It was turbulent, toxic, and exhausting. I am glad it is over. I am glad I finally have the chance to find peace again.

But I still miss that person in a way I cannot really explain. Maybe I miss the version of them that existed in the good moments. Maybe I miss the closeness. Maybe I am afraid I will never meet someone like him again, because he was simply different.

And maybe that is okay.

I want to remember the good parts kindly without pretending that the bad parts did not hurt me. I can be grateful for what was beautiful and still know that it was not a place where I could stay. It still hurts, though.

I just have so much disgust inside of me.

Ever since the breakup, I’ve been trying to learn how to spend time on my own and make peace with being alone. I’m also trying to use my phone less because my screen time has gotten way too high. I’m trying to work on myself. I’m trying to reflect on everything. I’m trying not to repeat the same decisions I made in the past. I’m analyzing my own behavior, taking responsibility for it, and learning from it.

And then, on the other side, you see someone who seems to have learned absolutely nothing.

I invested so many conversations, so much time, and so much emotional energy into trying to make him understand that taking care of his future matters. That taking responsibility for your own life matters. That staying away from substances matters because they can destroy so much.

He knows exactly what substances have done to my life through people I love who became victims of them. He knows the pain I’ve witnessed because of it. And despite knowing all of that, he still chooses to keep doing it.

Letting yourself go is one thing. But consciously choosing it simply because it feels good in the moment—that’s disgusting to me.

At the end of the day, I don’t care what he does with his life anymore. But every time I’m reminded of it, I’m also reminded that all those nights, all those endless conversations where I genuinely believed I might have reached him, were for nothing.

It makes me realize that I spent so much time trying to bring out something in someone that simply wasn’t there.

Kürzlich trennten wir uns voneinander - aus verschiedenen Gründen. Einer davon war, dass ich die Bindung nicht mehr aushalten konnte. Es war mir zu eng. Das ist mir nichts neues.

Seit rund 13 Jahren befinde ich mich in diesem Kreislauf. Ich stürze mich in eine Beziehung und irgendwann scheitert sie, danach nehme ich mir auf gar keinen Fall Zeit, um sie zu verarbeiten. Dieses Facettenreiche Theater blieb mir selbst lange verborgen, doch so langsam scheine ich dem Ganzen ein wenig auf die Schliche zu kommen.

Mir selbst fehlt es an Stabilität und Haltung im Leben und es war leichter sich irgendwo anzulehnen, als diese wichtigen Säulen selbst zu erbauen. Ich denke, dass das mit ein Grund für die Dynamik sein könnte, aber viel davon wird seinen Ursprung auch einfach im Frühkindlichen haben.

Nun stehe (liege hehe) ich hier und beobachte mich selbst, mein Innenleben, meine Prozesse, eigentlich wie sonst auch. Mein Kopf klammert sich im Alltag an Charaktere, die in irgendeinerweise einem absolut nicht vollständigen Ideal entsprechen.

Es mag sich binden. Es mag begehrt werden. Es mag jemand sein, der beeindruckt. Es mag gesehen werden. Ich schäme mich. Ich möchte normal sein, ich möchte normale Beziehungen führen, ich möchte raus aus diesem Hamsterrad.