The other day, I was driving when I saw a familiar face on the street. It was my ex. Seeing him felt like seeing any other random pedestrian passing by.
I remembered an old joke I used to tell my friends: that if I ever saw him while I was driving, I would run him over just to feel his bones cracking beneath my tires. Quite brutal, right? But the moment I saw him; those thoughts never occurred to me. I simply continued driving.
I told the friend sitting next to me that I had seen him and even joked about the old “hit and run” threat, but the truth is, I did not want to. I just smirked, feeling a wave of pride. Who would have thought that despite everything I went through, I would finally see myself healed from the things that used to break me?
It was a moment that made me truly proud. At first, life felt unimaginable without the people I once cared for. I used to yearn for them, praying that things would work out again, only to lose my self-respect in the process. There were moments when I felt completely alone, and the stages of grief felt agonizingly real. I never imagined that life would reintroduce me to those people, only to show me that our lines will never intersect again. Seeing their faces and recognizing them only as someone I used to know is a strange gift.
Back when the wound was fresh, I knew I would not have been able to control my tears or temper. This time, our eyes may have even met, but the magic was gone. Even the familiarity had vanished; he felt like a place I had visited once, a long time ago.
On a random Sunday afternoon on the porch of a new house, or in the driver’s seat of a brand-new car, the things that used to hurt you will lose their power. You will feel the magic of moving forward.
You will wake up fine, no longer comparing your hands to the ones they hold now. You will simply smile at the memories and the pain they caused, because those experiences made you who you are. The strong, wary person you have become exists because of the trials you faced. Surprisingly, you might even say “thank you.” You were once too comfortable believing things would never go wrong, but they did. And when they did, you thought it was the end of the world, but you were wrong. The moment it ended, something beautiful began. You noticed new patterns, you were introduced to people you never would have met otherwise, and you met a better version of yourself. The things you thought were impossible became your reality.
You can thank them for the catalyst but never give them credit for the person you have become. They may have contributed to the pain, but they were absent in the grueling process of your healing. Thank yourself because you are the one who survived. You held on when you were drowning, and you managed to save yourself. You were brave enough to let go and run toward something better.
That unimaginable moment of clarity arrived on a random Friday in December. I was not looking for him, but there he was, a familiar silhouette in the distance. I just drove past and smiled. The peace I have now is more important than anything that happened in the past. I have forgiven him for breaking my heart, and I appreciate the lessons he left behind. I am now familiar with the patterns he showed me. I recognize the “tricks” so that I am ready if someone else ever tries to deceive me the same way.
Life feels wonderful because one day it hurts, and the next, you are laughing about it. This does not just apply to an ex, but to everything we once thought we could not live without. You can rest easy knowing you were genuine and kind; if they could not see that, it was their loss.
One day, the people who hurt us will realize the weight of what they did. No matter how they try to start over, how much they give to charity, or how they flip the script to fit their narrative, there will always be a hollow space where they failed you. While they deal with the ghost of their mistakes, you are miles ahead. You are driving your car to places they will never see, leaving the prison they once built for you. Your heart finally feels victorious.
You realize you are lightyears away from the person you were when they left. And it feels good. If they ever decide to knock on your door again, your guard is up, and you are brave enough not to answer the call. Their names no longer carry any pain. Despite everything, you are still here, standing whole, and that is all that matters.
