Today, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually be okay. It’s strange—something has shifted in me. I had to get my truck repaired, and I’ve decided I’m going to start driving it to work starting Monday. My new job requires maintenance and repairs, and having the truck will make it easier to haul propane and move things around on the property. So, I’m getting a tune-up to make sure it’s running smoothly. Everything feels like it’s falling into place, in its own way.
But the real shift came when I dropped off the last of the things my ex cared about from our relationship. I gave her the final box of miniatures she wanted, the ones that didn’t make it to her the last time. And by some stroke of chance, I got to see her for what I know is the last time.
She was out walking her dog, still as beautiful as ever. Seeing her felt like something out of a dream—it’s been so long since I’ve laid eyes on her. I handed her the box, and it felt like I was finally closing a door that’s been open far too long.
Before I left, I asked her if she loved the man she’s with now, and she said yes. I wasn’t prepared for the relief that flooded over me. Hearing her say that took such a huge weight off my shoulders. It’s like a knot in my chest finally loosened. She’s happy. She’s being taken care of. She’s with someone who treats her well. That’s all I ever wanted for her, even if it wasn’t with me.
Knowing that she’s moved on, that she no longer loves me—it should hurt more. But it doesn’t. In fact, it feels like a release, like I’m finally free. She has everything she wants now. I’m not a part of her life, and I never will be. I’ll never be the one she chooses or needs. And somehow, that’s okay. I know that now.
It’s good to know where things stand. It’s good to know she’s happy and that she’s found someone else. It’s good to know that I can finally let go.
I’m not the person she loves, and I never will be. But instead of that breaking me, it’s allowing me to move forward. It’s allowing me to start a new chapter without the weight of wondering, without the hope of her coming back.
For the first time, it feels like I can finally breathe.