You Were Almost My Favorite Mistake
You were almost my favorite mistake. I could get goosebumps from the sound of your voice. At first, I thought it’s because I was experiencing what it was like to be in true love for the first time. My friends asked how I wound up with you. Never listening to the tone of voice seemed like a silly way of asking, but I allowed my happiness to override my hearing. Can love make you deaf, as well as blind?
It did with me. I used to have a recorded clip from one of our phone calls. It was personal between us, but I wanted to hear you say you love me. I kept the clip and would listen to it when I was sad, or on days you were unavailable to talk. I had the clip instead of a voicemail because you never left a voicemail.
If I didn’t answer the call, you would be infuriated. I clung to that clip of your voice for months. Especially on the days, you would ice me out. There was never anything sinister. Hearing you say you loved me could be the highlight of my day. It was a beautiful reminder to get through even the worst of days.
We shared cheesy quotes with one another. They were always about life, love, happiness, how to become happy, conquering storms and demons. I guess to you, they were cheesy quotes on pretty photographs, but they meant something to me. I held onto those quotes, and I tried to alter myself to be more like what was on them. I thought it was what you wanted.
Day by day, I was changing, trying to grow stronger so I could be what you wanted me to be. I now know that any change in me needs to be from something I want. If I want to change, it should be because I want to. I should never have tried to change myself for you.
I thought I looked up to you. I saw you as a pillar of strength, and you were always pushing your views at me. You were showing that you were stronger than I was being. We talked about your doubts and fears every day. When was the time to talk about mine? You would talk about how you make your accommodations to work through my fears, but I can’t remember when you did.
Unless what you called an accommodation was the guilt trip you were lying on every day. Those guilt trips that you never did, because as you like to say, you’re not a passive-aggressive person. Well, just like the rest of this relationship, one of us can tell the truth, and you can live in your denial about your behavior. I don’t. I am passive-aggressive. You are too, but by the time you read this, you’ll already have painted your sob story to everyone about how you were the victim.
I’m sure you’ll leave out the night I finally said I was done and blocked your number. Your social media posts already show that you’re talking about your “block game.” Truth be told, what you put on social media, I do care, for now. I won’t later, because today is the first day I didn’t wake up with anxiety. It’s amazing to wake up not wondering what the fight is going to be about today.
When I started writing about you, I could have sung your praises to the world but would have nothing nice to say about myself. I couldn’t see anything in myself, and you would ask me day after day to try to see myself the way you saw me. I’d apologize that I never could, but I’m not sorry. I don’t see myself as a plaything. I don’t see myself as an object. I will never see myself as someone that has to answer every single call or text in a certain timespan.
You could have been my breaking point. I was on edge many times. The daily fights caused so much anxiety. I would go days at a time without sleeping. I would snap at my friends, my family. I would come close to losing them. My friends and family know I can be stubborn, I’ll make my own choices, and I knew they weren’t fans of you. I didn’t give them the same respect. I begged for them to give you chances.
They never wanted to, but they were nice to you for me. When I said we were over, and you reached out to them, you missed your goal. They knew this time bomb was so close to an explosion. My friends and family know that I’m a fighter. Something would throw in my face. You called it a defense mechanism. You could have all your defense mechanisms. You could slew every insult you wanted, but if I even breathed the wrong way, you would call it my defense mechanism.
There was a while I thought I would break without you. I thought blocking your number. The easiest route would make me a bad person. It doesn’t. It’s what should have been done a long time ago. Instead, I kept you around in my life longer than you deserved. I remember a time you said I was your favorite and worst mistake.
You were almost my favorite mistake. Now, though. I’m my favorite mistake. I make mistakes constantly, and I never thought I would be perfect. I thought after we ended that I would hate myself, I wouldn’t be the same. I was right. I’m not the same. I’m not the terrified person that clung to you because I didn’t have anyone else. You don’t control me anymore. For a while, I thought I could only breathe and be myself while talking to you.
This was a lie you used to keep me under your thumb. The truth is, I am more myself than ever without you. I woke up this morning and knowing that you weren’t there, I could breathe. The weight of the world wasn’t on my shoulders. You liked to say everything was a result of my choices, even your mood swings. If I ever stood up for myself, it was because I was manic. It’s weird before I told you about a potential manic-depressive diagnosis, you didn’t even use that word. I guess you can call me manic now, because I know I don’t need you. You aren’t my favorite or biggest mistake. You are my biggest waste of time.
The world is off my shoulders. I can breathe. I didn’t wake up with a sense of nausea and anxiety. I didn’t wake up thinking the world was going to end. I didn’t need to turn over immediately to answer a message or worry that I slept through your call. I smiled. The mistake was time spent on you, but losing you? It’s the best choice I’ve ever made. I am free.