Detachment is a series of decisions. The difficulty in detachment is the fear of losing something or someone you love for good. It’s scary. It’s sad. But, sometimes we need to be brave. Full stop.

It’s been a month. While I sometimes feel as though I’ve made little progress in this healing journey, I’m not sure that’s entirely true. I think I’ve come a long way since then. I mean, it’s been tough and I’ve fallen victim to social media stalking more than I care to admit, but generally speaking, I think I’m doing okay. Or at least, I’m getting there.

I think the most difficult thing that I’m struggling with is not being able to put an end to my thoughts around him. I keep concerning myself with him - how he’s doing, if he’s okay, if he still hates me - and I really want to stop doing that. I don’t need to be thinking about any of this anymore. I need to declutter my headspace and get rid of lingering thoughts about him because the more I let myself engage with these kinds of thoughts, the more anxiety I get. And honestly, ain’t nobody got time for that either. So today, I made the decision to detach. While difficult, I need myself to be brave right now. To be strong. And to be better. Because what he does or doesn’t do, how he feels or doesn’t feel, what he thinks or doesn’t think of me really doesn’t matter and no longer have any relevance in my life. So, why bother?

What does matter is me. I’m responsible for my actions. I’m responsible for my behaviours. I’m responsible for my thoughts. I’m within my own control. And that’s what I need to be focusing on right now - myself. Earlier today, I bought a stick of white sage and a quartz and rose quartz healing crystal (shutup, I’m into this shit now, get over it) and excitedly rushed home from school to sage my apartment…and to be completely honest, to sage myself. I wanted to cleanse my space and myself from all of the negative energies that I had accumulated over the past year and to create the space for better energies (and better things!). But once I got home, I got nervous. Almost like, I was scared to do it because it would mean getting rid of him and the hope of a potential apology. But I knew this was something I had to do. Part of detaching from someone or something you love involves detaching from any lingering hope you may have that they might see things your way. But he’s never going to see things how I saw things.

That was part of our problem. He’s never going to see how his indecision hurt me. He’s never going to see how his behaviour tremendously affected me. He’s never going to see how him telling me he wasn’t happy with how things were going between us, but didn’t have time to talk about it - how that literally brought me to my knees in tears. He’s never going to see how much it hurt me to be told to cancel my train because he didn’t want to see me. He’s never going to get how much it killed me to consistently be shot down, over and over again. He’s never going to know I felt when he told me to leave his apartment in the middle of the night. He’s never going to understand how hard I tried and how much I fought to keep him. He’s never going to understand, despite all of that, how much he meant to me. It was real to me. It was never a test.

I can’t make him see things my way, but I can stop concerning myself with him. Detachment is a series of decisions. It is a process. And in order to re-discover my balance, my re-alignment, and my heart centre, I need to continue to practice it. In every decision I make to detach, I’m re-affirming that while I may still love him, I love myself more, and respect myself enough to confidently let that shit go.