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I usually don’t have any problem handling the truth and the consequences that come with it. But this year, there has been one truth that I have been trying to evade. I guess it is because I cannot accept it and probably because it’s so painful.

Yesterday, I gathered up all my courage and faced my biggest fear. I thought that I needed to make peace with everything that has happened to me this year and there wasn’t any other time to do it.

The breakup that has slowly eaten me up in the past eight months has taken its toll on me. I thought that it was time for me to be man enough to face the truth and deal with the consequences.

I went to my ex’s house for the first time. I was trembling, but with enough courage, I managed to drive myself to the house that I used to live in. I rang the bell and waited. The door opened and there he was, with a shocked expression, I said “hello”. Still, he couldn’t utter anything. And before he could come to his senses, I opened my arms and gave him a hug.

He then welcomed me. We chatted. I looked for my shoes and some other stuff that I had left there. He started cooking late lunch and invited me to join him. I did. It was the first meal we had together since April.

Later on, his new boyfriend arrived. He introduced us properly. I can’t even begin to describe his boyfriend’s expression. But I was cool. I was composed. And I shook his hand firmly as if to say, “Yes, it’s me, The Ex.” I was kind of enjoying the whole scenario. Both of them were quite uneasy with me around. But I tried to dilute the tension by being my super extra nice and magnanimous self. We had a few drinks and even sang songs on karaoke.

Everything went well. I saw my ex’s eyes glisten the way they did when we first met. But this time, it wasn’t for me. Then I realized that he has really moved on and that he was happy. It kinda hurt, but I couldn’t do anything about it. How would you handle a situation being in a room with an ex who broke up with you via email, together with his new lover? Maybe you’d be furious and mad as hell. But I wasn’t. I kept it all in.

What was my reason of going there anyway? Maybe I just wanted to see how he was doing. Maybe I needed to find out if he still cared for me. Maybe I just wanted to see him because I missed him so much. Maybe I just needed a proper closure.

Most of the questions that I wanted to ask were answered. I was at peace. I was free. But why did it hurt so much?

My friend said that it was the impact of the entire thing. I guess it was. The next day, I felt better. I had actually slept very peacefully that night. I must have been really set free at last.