February turned out to be my most inspiring month. Not to mention the most love-filled. Which is crazy, as this love didn’t involve anyone else but myself. I truly believed that being in love meant being wrapped up in someone, preferably a partner, preferably you—back when you were my world. But this month, love looked different for me.
It wasn’t about roses or candlelit dinners. It wasn’t about waiting for a text that would never come. It wasn’t about wondering if you’d be too busy or if you would pick up my call for the fifth call. This love-filled month was about me. It was about choosing love in ways I never had before, and how strangely interesting it was that this did not include you.
At the end of this love month, I realised I wasted too much time anticipating closure from you. Why did I think I needed closure from you?
I pictured us having one last conversation—if only to hear your voice for the last time. I wanted one real explanation, maybe an apology, then I could move on. I thought you owed me that. The way you left—without looking back, without giving me anything to hold on to—felt like unfinished business.
Turns out that was my mind playing tricks on me.
February used to be my most dreaded month. I’d ponder and wonder where I went wrong and why we didn’t fix things. Then I’d drown myself in sad songs and a bowl of ice cream as I replay everything, trying to figure out where I went wrong, and what I could have done differently. I’d dissect your words, your silences, your indifference. I thought maybe if I understood why you left, it would hurt less. I thought maybe if you admitted you regretted it, it would mean our love had been real. I needed you to validate what we had, to give it meaning.
But I’ve learned something this February month: closure isn’t something another person gives you. It’s something you give yourself.
So, I have given it to myself.
At the end of this month, I took all the closure from what we had and left even those memories that tickle behind.
I let go of waiting for you to say the right thing, to do the right thing. I am no longer holding my breath for when you’d see the value in what we were and the loss in what you did. I’ve stopped looking for signs that you miss me too.
Instead, I filled February with love—love that had nothing to do with you. I went out with my friends and let myself laugh without wondering what you were doing. I spent time with family and didn’t feel like something was missing. I bought myself flowers, cooked my own meals, and let my heart feel full without needing someone else to complete it.
And as February has gone, I have felt something I haven’t felt in a long time—peace.
I don’t need to hate you, and I don’t need to love you either. I don’t need to hold on to the idea that we could have been something more. What happened between us was exactly what was meant to happen. And now, it’s done.
I used to think that love had to hurt, that loss needed to be mourned endlessly, and closure was something only you could give me. But I know now that love doesn’t have to be painful, and endings don’t have to be neatly tied up with a bow to be valid.
I am easily a glass to my closure.
From here on, I won’t write about what could have been. I won’t write about missing you. I won’t write about regret.
I will still write you letters though.
Who else can I freely share my fun, scary, happy and sad everyday experiences with?
Until my next letter,
Your Ex-Girlfriend
- Dear Ex-Boyfriend” is a fictional relationship column written by Ese Walter, reflecting on past experiences with a fictional ex. Readers are encouraged to share their own stories by submitting letters for possible publication. Submissions can be sent to esewalter@gmail.com
