And to be honest, there is no shame in going back to someone who once broke you.

It’s not just a choice you made in an hour anyway. It’s a long process of thoughts, countless days and nights you spent thinking. So no, you don’t just make any decision on a random night.

People only know the version of the story we choose to tell them. They don’t know what it feels like when years have passed and you’re the only one who knows what has actually changed inside you. Of course emotions are complicated and you can’t just expect anyone to understand you by words. Emotions are complicated. They’re how you feel. They’re yours. It doesn’t always have to make sense to others but to you.

It’s not about hoping that it will turn out better this time. It’s about wanting to face the person who once hurt you with the new version of you who survived. Maybe there wasn’t one particular moment that changed my mind. Maybe it was simply the accumulation of years. I once came to someone with hopes that we could get together, but now im back as someone who has finished grieving.

I couldn’t help but wonder, am i betraying the girl who barely survived him?

Looking back means being able to revisit something without wanting to become who you were in it again. Going back means wanting to recreate what you had. To reconnect doesn’t always mean going back. You can have a new kind of relationship with someone from the past without rewriting the mistakes you’ve made in the past. And maybe that’s exactly what i want. Maybe i wasn’t trying to go back. Maybe i just wanted to look back so i could finally be comfortable about it.

Maybe i was simply curious about what it would sound like for two people who once hurt each other to talk again after years of growing separately.

Im going to be honest though. I didn’t reach out because i was completely indifferent. Maybe i missed him. I really did. And for once, i didn’t want to pretend that i didn’t. But missing someone isn’t the same as wanting the life you had with them back. That’s the difference.

We’re all human. We grow. We don’t stay the same.

I told myself that i would never ever go back to him. I’ve had that mindset for years. And it is a valid reason because that means the pain has consumed me long enough until i’ve come to this point. The point where i decided to make the change. And it didn’t just pop up into my head in a blink of an eye. It took time, and honestly, who would’ve thought that it all came from me? The me who always told my friends that i would never want him back in my life. That it’s a hell of a disrespect to the version of myself who suffered.

So, does honoring who i was mean obeying every decision she made forever?

I don’t think so. Because respecting her doesn’t mean letting the pain dictate the rest of my life.

I believe you can honor your past without turning the pain into a punishment for the rest of your life. Imagine living your life in constant fear of your past. I don’t want that. That’s probably one of the things im really scared of. Haunted by the past.

The girl who decided to leave deserved to be protected. But she doesn’t have to make every decision for the woman i’ve become.

But i have this itch in me, one of my biggest what-ifs. What if i ever talked to him again after everything? Does that mean i was never that hurt after all the pain he caused me?

No.

I was hurt back then, yes. But am i peaceful now? yes. And it’s valid.

Just like Nora and Haesung in Past Lives. You don’t have to hate someone who’s hurt you just to admit that they hurt you deeply. What happened in the past, stays in the past. You don’t have to delete and undo anything.

The fact that knowing someone when we were both young and clumsy, made the situation got a little bit complicated, i would say. It happened a long time ago, we made the mistakes back then when we were just kids. Who are you now? Who would we be around each other now? Would we even be the same kind of people to each other anymore?

Im not just curious about him now. But im also curious about what will happen if the new version of us meets each other.

Im not saying that to reconnect with someone from the past who once hurt you was the best decision. It took me years to even think about this, mind you. Will it be worth the suffering? Am i disrespecting the version of me who suffered? I’ve been answering those questions many times before finally coming to this conclusion. It’s not the easiest.

But you can forgive someone without giving them the same access. It’s about the boundaries you choose to keep. Respectful to each other. Reconnecting doesn’t mean reopening every door.

Maybe reconnecting wouldn’t heal anything. Maybe it could simply show me what was still there, and what wasn’t. We could have a different chemistry, a new one, not the same as what we used to have, and that’s okay. Maybe being friends is what we’re supposed to be. And it doesn’t have to be the other way around.

Healing doesn’t always look like walking away forever anyway. Healing isn’t linear. I thought moving on meant reaching a point where i no longer wanted to know what happened to him, but no.

Contradictions don’t necessarily mean you’re going backward.

You could remember everything that happened. You could respect the person who went through it. And because i respect her, i trust the person i’ve become enough to make this decision.

I think it’s worth everything i went through to finally have the courage to face the past. Some people choose to bury their trauma but i’ve decided to face it and make peace. I have changed. Im a different person now. And im meeting him as the best version of myself.

The decisions we make to protect ourselves while we’re hurt don’t necessarily have to become permanent rules for the person we become after we’ve healed.

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But there are these people though, that i’m going to talk about in this article, who are often jealous of who their friends are spending time with. Which indeed is very irrational for me. Because friendship is a relationship, not ownership. Some people don’t actually miss their friends, they miss being the favorite.

I couldn’t help but wonder, are these people afraid of losing their friend, or afraid of no longer being the favorite one?

I’ve always found the word ‘favorite’ strange when it’s attached to people. Favorite things could stay within you forever, but the fact is that you could gain new favorite things too. And that doesn’t mean the old things are something to be replaced. Favorite songs change. Favorite cafes change. Favorite books change. Even favorite seasons change. It’s something you gain along the way as long as you live. The same goes for people. So why do we expect to permanently occupy that position in someone’s life?

Maybe the problem begins when we mistake closeness for exclusivity. Being close to someone has never meant being their only person. Somewhere along the way, people start believing that intimacy comes with ownership, when in reality, it only comes with trust. When it comes to friendship, trust doesn’t just come the moment you’ve just met each other. It comes slowly as you get to know each other. More meetings. More conversations. More shared connections. That’s when the bond starts to build. When the trust is there, that’s when you should never question someone’s loyalty. That’s the time when you should never try to keep them within your reach. Trust is there to keep both parties comfortable and happy. You restrict someone just because you fear losing them, but that fear is exactly what breaks the trust you’re trying to protect.

An individual has the right to choose who they want to connect with, who they want to build a bond with. I don’t see a problem for someone to have more than one friend or some considered them as best friend. For example, i could have more than one close friend and each of them have a different kind of connection with me. I could consider them all as my closest and the scale would still be different with each of them. And that’s normal.

But there are those people who think that they’re the closest to their friend to the point that it feels unfair for their friend to have another close friend. Which to be fair, is a pretty fucked up mindset. The logic is that when you cherish someone, shouldn’t them having more people who love and support them be a good thing? It should never be anything territorial in the first place. It makes you seemed like a possessive partner or something.

I’ve seen this case a few times in my life and i could never seem to comprehend why it would even cross someone’s mind. When it comes to letting someone into my vulnerable side, i would say that i’m pretty picky about it. I’m not used to expressing my true feelings to just anybody. I need to trust them first wholeheartedly. That’s when i consider someone as my closest friend. I don’t even just consider anyone as friend, and i think that sums up how i don’t just trust people so easily, or somehow you can judge me that i sounded like i don’t have that many close friends, let alone friends.

When i consider someone as a close friend, i trust them, and i would never even have the fear that they’d make more friends than me, or have other best friends besides me. It was never my place to think like that, as if i owned my best friend when i don’t. Once you have that connection and bond, what more can you ask for? As long as the friendship stays the same, that’s all you can maintain. There’s no room for jealousy in that, and honestly, you don’t even have the right to feel jealous in the first place. It’s irrational, to say the least. You can’t be scared about it because when you have that connection and bond that you already have, what more can you ask for?

Someone’s friend could be the one they have had since they were a kid, when in primary school, secondary school, high school, college, even someone they just met at the bar and instantly connected. That means you can never prevent any of your friends from making friends with new people. You were never the only one and that’s normal. That’s a basic human need, to socialize with others, not just with one being.

Why do some people treat friendship like ownership? Someone would try to gatekeep their friend from gaining another friend, in fear they would get replaced. I could never wrap my head around the idea of it all.

Maybe we’ve all been like those people at some point, but that doesn’t validate your feelings. At all.

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If you watched Sex and the City, you’ll probably be familiar with the character called Mr. Big, everyone’s favorite asshole. Big was known as the guy who played the endless push and pull game with the one and only little fool, Carrie Bradshaw.

And i think everyone has their own version of Mr. Big. Not necessarily someone who stays, but someone who never really leaves either. The kind of connection that comes and goes, just enough to keep you holding on. I thought i had mine too. He felt like my Mr. Big for a while.

I’m not the kind of person who easily sees romance in a guy. But that time felt a little too different. A little too real for me. Looking back, he was never really clear about anything. I think i just kept reading more into what was never fully there. Maybe i knew from the start that he would break my heart. Or maybe i don’t.

I couldn’t help but wonder, was he ever really that complicated, or did i just keep making excuses for someone who never tried to be anything more?

Maybe those excuses were enough to make me stay longer, even when i wasn’t fully chosen.

Let’s just call him Big. Big and i were introduced by our landlord, so basically we lived in the same building. We both went to the same college and stayed in the same area. Then we got to know each other, the typical get-to-know-each-other phase, and it was never anything romantic. He introduced me to his friends, who also happened to live in the same building. Eventually, they became my friends too. But one thing was always clear among them: I was introduced by Big, and somehow, that alone created an unspoken assumption that there was something special going on between us. Or maybe everyone saw something we were too close to recognize ourselves.

At least, that’s what i thought it was.

We were making friends, trying to help each other out as a fellow freshman, nothing more than that. But who knew a simple introduction could slowly turn into something more?

It started off as friendship, and i genuinely never saw romance in us. But that’s the thing about feelings, you can never plan who you’ll fall for in the next twenty-four hours.

Somewhere in our early friendship, he told me that he was pursuing someone. Someone that clearly wasn’t me, he never made it specific. Little did i know, he actually meant two people: me and another girl. Maybe I was just too naive to notice it back then.

How was i supposed to know he had been hinting at both me and another girl all along?

It went unnoticed by me, it all just passed by. Like a passing breeze, like nothing happened.

We got closer as time goes by, slowly getting comfortable around each other. Those little meetings slowly became something more intense along the way. Without realizing it, we started spending most of our days together. We texted each other good mornings and good nights. It was never anything serious but also a little bit flirtatious at the same time. Maybe a little too comfortable to be platonic. Maybe that was exactly what made it harder to define.

We went out so often that even people assumed we were together. But we weren’t. And maybe that was the problem.

Time went by, and we spent more and more time together. Best friends, he said.

It all went well between us. No one’s desperate for something official out of this relationship. But somewhere along the way, i had this feeling that maybe there was someone else. Not because he told me there was, just a quiet suspicion that would occasionally cross my mind before i pushed it away again. But then again, he never really said anything about it, never mentioned being exclusive with anyone. Nothing was ever made clear. And maybe that was exactly why i stayed confused for so long. Because despite my suspicions, he was still sweet to me like nothing had changed.

It was on a random tuesday he suddenly told me he kinda went exclusive with someone i never knew about. I knew about him pursuing someone, but not this suddenly. Not when i thought we finally turn romantic towards each other. Not when he never really explain about their exclusivity. It sounds confusing, i know. So was it for me at that time.

He never labeled this other girl as his girlfriend, he even kinda tries to hide everything about this girl from me. And i never tried to find out more about it. I was too afraid to lose everything we had at the moment. I wanted this to work out so i linger around him, playing the fool, just like Carrie did.

You might think that he’d push me away, but no. He kept me around. And i stayed, somehow we got even closer as i slowly forgot about this other girl. Days we spent and things we did was getting further away from what friends do. But it was never anything as explicit and as sexual. Still, it was not platonic. And this was the time i finally started questioning everything. What are we?

As things got even more questionable between us, the more he slowly tried to push me away, to set a clear boundary between us. It was very confusing for me at that time. Or maybe I was just too young to understand what was happening. I thought we’re trying to keep it lowkey from everything and everyone. Doesn’t matter what will people think of me, i honestly don’t really care. It was fine before that particular night. We spent the night together in my room. I don’t even know what has gotten into me for inviting him to my very private space.

Anyway, he came. I was trying to not make the atmosphere awkward than it already was. So we were just hanging out in my room, chitchatting about anything. It all seemed so sweet to spend the night with him like this, just the two of us, privately. Not until when he tries to make a serious conversation. I never knew what he was about to say that night, changed how i feel about him forever.

It started off with a sweet gesture, my palm against his head as we lay down facing each other, my fingers stroking ever so softly through his locks. He sounded like he was about to confess, something good or bad, i had no idea. I forgot most of the things he said that night, but one thing that will stay within me forever was: “Everything that has happened between us, how we felt towards each other, what you felt about me, let it be what you believe.”

And he never tell me how he felt towards me. Ever. I never knew if it was mutual or was it just me, or was it all in my head.

To this day, i still don’t know what he meant by that. Was it his way of admitting something? Or refusing to? Maybe that was the cruelest part of all. Not rejection, but ambiguity.

That night ended with him leaving me alone in my room at midnight. I remember vividly the way he asks for a last time hug before he left. But i refuse because i knew that i can just breakdown and cry right then and there. But it didn’t just end like that. I texted him a few minutes after he was gone, basically begging him to come back one last time, to spend the night with me.

He refused. And that’s probably the best decision he’s ever made.

He disappeared. Days after days i spent alone. Our room chat has run dry. That was the hardest pill to swallow, trying to get used to his absence when the only thing i knew was to be excited to spend the day with him.

But not long after that, weeks later, he finally reached out to me. Saying sorry that he didn’t mean to ignore me like that. One of the reason i believe he reached out to me was because i was fussing about him to my friends who are basically his friends too. I told them that i never wanted it to end this way, that i’m willing to forget everything that has happened between us, that i’m willing to just be friends from now on. Pure platonic.

I believe one of them told Big about it and made him changed his mind. Within any more days, we’re finally back together. Purely as friends. I remember the way he set his walls so high that i didn’t even dare to climb. But it felt like i’m finally alright again, like a breath of fresh air through my lungs. This feels right, as long as i don’t lose him anymore.

Not until one day, Big’s girl finally found out about my existence. It felt like the worst nightmare. I never thought it’d come to this. I know it’s that bad when she reached out to me through dm. She introduces herself as his girlfriend when he never adresseses her as his girlfriend. It’s a long text, she wanted to know from my perspective. So i initiated to call her which she agrees.

I clarify about everything between me and Big, i apologize, really apologize about it. I even told her that i really do hope she won’t ever see Big differently. I was serious about that.

With that, we’re back being platonic. We still see each other sometimes, but mostly with our friends too so it’s never anything suspicious between us.

Me and Big still text each other but only when necessary. We really never text if it’s not something urgent, or i don’t even try to text him when it’s not about something that i need a help for. But one day, she reached me out for the second time. This time felt annoying because i am very sure i don’t cross a line. Her text felt like a warning that i should never communicate with him anymore.

And so that was the moment i realized that it’s not worth staying friends with Big when his girlfriend has zero trust about us back being friends. I was the first to finally cut him off.

Looking back now, I don’t think he intentionally kept me there. I think I stayed because he kept giving me just enough attention to mistake uncertainty for possibility.

I know I’ve moved on. At least, that’s what I tell myself until moments like this. When i secretly miss those times. And it’s been three years.

It’s strange how something you thought you were done with can still find its way back to you. Funny how certain songs can suddenly bring you back to those nights when you thought everything was finally going to work out.

Don’t you miss it a little sometimes? When cold air starts to feel like those days again, or when a certain smell lingers a little too long in your memory?

Reminiscing has always been the hardest part of moving on. You can’t control it when suddenly everything around you decides to bring you back to the old days.

I miss those days sometimes.

The fact that those were never mine made it hurts the most. Am I really missing him, or am i just missing the feeling of being wanted?

It’s been years, yet i still find myself asking that same question over and over again.

He left a scar that lasted far longer than the amount of time i had actually known him. Things weren’t easy for me after that. They never really were. I really thought I was done with him.

Until three years later, Big returned.

It felt surreal, you thought it had already passed years ago. He sent me a paragraph.

It said:

Those words broke me a little harder than our last time together. Why would he write that after all this time? What was the intention? I was totally fine that day until i read his text.

Would things have turned out differently if one of us had just been a little wiser?

I still don’t know.

Fortunately, unlike Carrie, I didn’t stay.

Maybe that’s the thing about having your on version of Mr. Big. They don’t always leave loudly. Sometimes, they stay in the smallest things instead. And maybe moving on was never really about forgetting him completely. Maybe it was simply about learning how to remember him without wanting to go back. Because after all this time, i don’t think i miss him the same way anymore. I think i just miss the version of myself who still believed uncertainty could eventually turn into something certain.

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Strangers don’t really know me. They have never seen me smoke, not really. They pass by, say something they won’t remember, and move on. Their opinions feel distant, almost weightless, it’s easier to brush it off. But it still makes me wonder why they feel the need to have one in the first place. Someone could be smoking in a designated smoking area and some mothers would conciously brought their babies there. Which is, honestly, ironic. Who would you blame, though? Smoker who smokes in their place? Or the mothers who brought their babies into it? I’m pretty sure most people would still blame the smoker as if smoking were the biggest sin among all sins, at least according to society. I mean, it is a smoking area for a reason. You will eventually meet smokers there, inhale the smoke, and there’s not much you can do about it. It has always been their place.

I can ignore strangers. But with friends, it’s never that simple. Not all my friends know that i smoke, and somehow, admitting it to a new friend always feel like i’m stripping something off myself. I know it sounds dramatic, it’s just a cigarette, it shouldn’t be a big deal. But i come from an environment that isn’t exactly kind to a women who smoke. Anyways, friends give a certain familiarity in the way they ask, the way they comment, as if it’s something we both share, even when it isn’t. Their words carry weight, not because they’re always right, but because they come from a place that feels closer. Their concern, and sometimes their nosiness, doesn’t come out of nowhere. It comes from knowing who you are, or at least trying to. Smoking has always been seen as not just unhealthy, but also something that damages a woman’s image. And i find it funny how people can be so concerned about consequenses that should only belong to the person making the choice. Was it always meant to be shameful for a woman to smoke? Has it always been something gendered? Because we all know there are so many remarkable women who smoke anyway.

I like to think that i’m a very considerate smoker. I don’t just smoke around anyone. I respect non-smokers, even the ones who hate it completely. That’s part of the reason i don’t smoke publicly. Too many complains can ruin something that’s supposed to be quietly enjoyed. Some friends are okay with it and some aren’t. Some tell me to just be comfortable and smoke whenever i want, even though i’ve always been cautious about it. I live in a small town, i can run into someone i know anywhere. That’s the last thing i want to happen.

Others see it through a different lens, shaped by what they believe in. They think it goes against something fundamental, religion and faith perhaps. I understand that. I really do. But understanding doesn’t always mean agreeing. When it comes to that, i’m not the most religious or faithful person you’ll ever met. I don’t know why smoking makes their concern feel heavier, less like a passing comment, more like something they genuinely struggle to reconcile. But the thing is, no one is forcing anyone to reconcile. Smoking or not smoking has always been a choice, an individual one. And when someone uninvited, steps into that space, it feels intrusive. I don’t remember asking for anyone’s opinion about it. Like when they bring up someone they lost because of smoking. I’m sorry. I really am. But do i carry that too?

Some of my friends simply aren’t comfortable with it, when they accidently inhale the smoke. They find it suffocating, the smell too much, when i find it oddly calming. One of them even has asthma. So i don’t really have a choice. I choose not to smoke around them. Maybe that’s why i don’t smoke in public in the first place.

But sometimes, it feels like i don’t quiet have my people, like Carrie Bradshaw being the only smoker in the group. It’s strange, being the only smoker in a group of non-smoker. It feels almost disrespectful to light one up. So i don’t. Still, there are moments i wish i could. Like when the conversation flows and the atmosphere softens, who wouldn’t want a quiet hit of nicotine? No one to blame, really. But if this is how it feels with friends, maybe that’s why it feels even more complicated when it comes from someone even closer.

There was a time when i had someone call my closest. He wasn’t quiet a partner, not something i could easily name. Some connections don’t come with labels. We were never really anything definable, but he knew me in ways that made his opinions harder to ignore. When someone is that close, even the smallest opinions mattered.

We got close quickly, close enough to spend our days together, almost every day. We got even closer that none of us even knew. What are we? We cared for each other, we text each other good mornings and good nights. But it was never something as serious as ‘I love yous’. He knew that i smoke from the very beginning of our relationship. And at first, it was never a problem. Until one day, it become one. “Do you mind quitting?”, was a question i never thought i’d hear from someone so close to me. As if quitting has always been something simple. But i tried to meet him halfway. I cut down. From seven cigarettes a day to four. It wasn’t easy, but i did it. And still, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. He wanted me to quit entirely. And that’s when it got me thinking, when does care suddenly turn into control?

I didn’t respond to that request this time. There was a deafening silence that follows. I considered it, though. I really did. I thought about quitting, about becoming someone they could actually be proud of. But before i could even decide, it was already over. The relationship fell apart just like that. It all ended as if it had never existed in the first place. Of course, it didn’t end over a cigarette alone. It was a lot more complicated than that. Smoking was never the main reason. But it was one of the reasons we could never work.

He chose a non-smoker.

So, what do you think was the actual reason of not wanting to be near a smoker? Was it the smoke? Or was it the bad image of being a smoker? Would you judge someone just because they smoke cigarettes? Will you hate your loved ones for not wanting to quit smoking?

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