The Dying Process

Because as much as dying is a natural process for the human body, dying is an unconscious, mutual decision people in relationships make.

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned, relationships don’t end abruptly. It goes through a painstaking, grueling process before it eventually rots and dries. Most of the time, it destroys the parties involved but it happens. When things come spiraling down the wire, most people never make it back up–especially those who know they’re better off walking toward the opposite direction.

The concept of dying applies to almost every single aspect of our lives–as it generally appeals to life as a whole. When the body dies, it doesn’t generally die in an instant: systems stops, blood flow halts, heart stops beating–and then you die. Quite remarkably, when relationships are bound to fail, the dying process is slow, like it teases you with the lie that it’s going to work but it fades eventually. Because as much as dying is a natural process for the human body, breaking up is an unconscious, mutual decision people in relationships make.

the body slowly wears out, the body stops fighting

The first time I got too tired to argue was the first time I knew I was half way out the door. It was tiring; to argue over the same things every time. It’s like we both have stopped growing as individuals, as a unit, as two people who once functioned together as a perfectly oiled machine.

When the body stops fighting, it gets sick. It gets beaten down until it is tired enough to give up. The first sign of dying is exhaustion and most of the time, we let it drag us out. Hoping that it’ll get better tomorrow.

anger, it settles down at the pit of your stomach

One time, you argued with me about the same thing we’ve been fighting about, I rolled my eyes when I walked away.

hope, it bleeds eternal misery

When you asked me to stay, I did. I had no reason to but I did.

Some people stick around because that’s who they are; but that’s no reason to abuse them–to make them believe things would be different when they really won’t be. It feels like betrayal and disappointment masked in hope of what the future entails.

not enough medicine

Some diseases are curable–like differences and similarities; some are fatal–like cheating and lies. But there are those diseases that drag you out and kill you slowly–like denial and cowardice.

We both knew it was over but we were both scared to admit it.

Until finally, someone got tired of accepting all the quick fixes and unfulfilled promises.

Don’t blame me.

Someone asked me today, “How could you stay with someone who kept making you feel like you’re a bad person?”

Frankly, I ask myself the same thing.

I cannot breathe, stop strangling me

They say relationships work like giving the other a gun and trusting them not to pull the trigger.

I pulled the trigger.

It needed to die.

Whatever makes me feel like I should be less of what I am, it needed to die.

It hurt.

Pulling the trigger caused a resounding cry of pain, your pain and my pain. Killing something that had made you feel better for such a great amount of time is not something I imagined ever doing.

But that’s the reality of life: when relationships end, it’s mostly a decision. Just like how dying people close their eyes and decide to never open them again.

the final straw

Inevitably, goodbyes were said, tears were shed.

But then the longing feeling is there as I walked away. As I descended the stairs of your house for the last time, I changed my mind for about 3 times. But I stuck with my decision because that’s what we failed to do in the course of being together: we never stuck with our decision to be better.

The one time you did try to be better, I stopped trying to be.

So, the stars never aligned.

And maybe, that’s the first basic indicator that it was never meant to be.

So, it died. The one thing that has kept us alive died. But there’s always redemption and resurrection in the near future. It’s not a consolation. It’s a promise.

It’s not a promise I make to you but to myself. And unlike the many promises we made to each other, I’m gonna fulfill this one.

the funeral

People respond to loss in many ways.

Some destroy themselves, some cry, some don’t while others rage. It’s human nature to react to pain. But it’s never a reason to use your pain to hurt other people.

Today, you called me names again. Accused me again of things you know I won’t do–but that’s the thing about you, you never believed in the version of me you see everyday because you have a different image in your head. I composed a long-winding text message to defend myself because even amid the funeral, you’re still the person who made so happy once. But I deleted it because it feels like a waste of time.

I spent most my time defending myself to you. So, I’m done with that. It’s just really painful to be this close to hating someone you’ve shared good times with. But I guess it’s really possible to kill someone over and over.

Frankly, I’m not surprised. You’ve killed me so many times before. Breaking up never really guaranteed change.

It’s gonna be long journey of mourning. It’s painful but one has to keep on walking away to the opposite direction.

What’s dead is dead–and yes, previous mistakes will always haunt us. But that’s not a reason to turn and fire.

I don’t have enough bullets to waste anyway.

Author: Lora Dee

Proof that a degree in Communication doesn't make anyone less awkward; music taste ranges from the very first Britney Spears album to Arcade Fire and Haim but does not include Justin Bieber and One Direction; favorite poet is me because everyone is a poet when they're sad enough.

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