Would That I

With each love I cut loose, I was never the same.

A few weeks ago, I met someone. Perfect in many ways, kind, present, intentional. But not perfect in two ways I cannot, and should not, compromise on. I used to compromise on these things, and every single time, I got my ass handed to me.

The old me would have strung him along, even as a quiet resentment began to grow in my chest. I would have stayed, smiled, and slowly turned cold inside. But I am trying to be a better person now, so I ended it.

I had a dozen doubts. I questioned whether I was making the right decision. Ending it probably hurt me more than it hurt him. But I realized that as much as he did not deserve resentment from me, I also do not deserve a life built on compromise that erodes my values. I ended relationships and friendships last year because I chose not to compromise anymore. Why should I begin a new year by betraying that decision?

There is a fine line between compromise and self-abandonment. I know that line now.

Would that I could unlearn the instinct to stay just because something is almost right.

I used to accept the love I thought I deserved, no matter the lapses. I stayed because I was afraid of what was out there. What if I could not find better? That fear explains how I once survived a committed situationship for a whole year, half loved, half seen, fully anxious.

Would that I had known earlier that not every connection is meant to be kept just because it is good in some ways.

I feel bad for hurting him. I am sure he thinks I am a terrible person, why agree to something only to end it a week later? I wish I could explain that while kindness often looks like staying, sometimes staying when your spirit is already pulling away becomes a quiet cruelty. I know this because I have done it before, and I am not proud of who I was in that story.

Would that I could explain that leaving was not an act of rejection, but of prevention, of future bitterness, of a love that would rot instead of bloom.

The hardest part of growth is that it does not feel empowering. It feels like loss. I did not feel strong making that decision. I felt doubt. I felt sadness. I questioned myself.

But I still did it.

Because some lessons only come after loving the wrong way long enough to recognize the right way when it asks something harder of you.

Would that I could say choosing myself felt brave. It felt like grief.

And still, I chose it.

P.S- I wrote this while being batshit drunk so forgive me for any error or thoughts derailment. Honesty comes easier when the guard is down.

Super P.S - Since I heard Hozier’s Would That I, two years ago, I knew I had to write an article with that topic because it’s such a wonderful phrase although old fashioned.