Britney

I broke up with her. It just wasn’t working out. I try to convince myself that it was for the best while I’m standing on the train, thinking about us holding each other after the freshman formal, or at 2:33 in the morning, trying not to cry as I remember being in her arms at a punk music festival by the sea.

Everyone talks about how hard it is for the person being broken up with, but no one has ever mentioned to me how it is to be on the other side. No one explains how to build a barrier against the onslaught of memories of better times. No one tells you how to be sure you made the right choice and not try to back out of it.

I’m a little bit better now. Sleep remedied the sickness I felt right afterward, when I was full of emptiness and confusion. But it’s still hard for me to think back on the relationship. I have trouble saying the word ex-girlfriend. It feels so oddly final, like I am cutting a whole person out of my life, even though I know that’s not really true. ♦