It’s been a year and I am still not over it: How to work through your toughest break-up

Krysty Del
4 min readMar 18, 2021
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Break-ups are tough.

I just recently went through the hardest break-up of my life and I am still recovering.

I mean I just didn’t see it coming, if I did I would have better prepared myself.

It’s been a year and I am just still not okay. I just look in the mirror and I don’t look or feel the same. It’s why I have been trying so many new things. Trying to capture a look/feel of my old self. It was all so unexpected. I just don’t get how they could just move on without even checking on me, without so much as a goodbye.

Some days, I just look in the mirror some days and cry.

I loved her. I really loved her. I loved the way she touched me. The way I would feel after she touched me. I wouldn’t even have to tell her what I wanted or needed, she just knew.

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We met randomly one sunny day. I was walking down my street, this was about 10 years ago. I saw her. She had purple hair at the time, one side was shaved. She was loud and outspoken. She was Puertorriquena and let everyone know. Best of all, she just could see through me. She said she would treat me right and would go slow. I… I trusted her. I don’t know why I did, but I trusted her in a way I never had before. It was my first time, I let her have her way with me, and in the end I felt beautiful. I had a glow that everyone noticed. People would stop and ask me what I did differently. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want it all to be because of her. I would say, oh you know, I just feel different. She changed me in ways I didn’t even know.

We started slow. I was cheating on my regular with her. We would sneak off maybe 3 to 4 times a year. Only when I really needed a fix. There were days I would lie awake, just needing her to touch me again and make me feel better than I ever felt. I hid her from the world for a while but I would count the days until I got to see her again. Every time I saw her it was magical. It would start so slow, we would sit and chill, you know: smoke a blunt, drink some wine, catch up on each other’s lives. She never rushed me, she knew this was all so new to me. She was understanding and slow. She would sit and ask me what I wanted done to me and I would tell her what I saw on the internet, what I thought other people were doing. She would tell me, NAH that’s not what you want, I got you. Just put your head back and let me show you. And she was right. She would give me what I needed, and every time I left satisfied.

It got to the point, I could no longer hide the relationship. The changes in me were too obvious so I told people. I even shared her with a few of my friends. Some were better for the experience, some didn’t know what they had. But I was careful with who she came in contact with because I wanted to keep her safe. She was all mine. But alas I still lost her.

So when we had the last time, I wish I would have known it was the last time. I would have cherished it more. Word is she was seeing someone new. They were reckless with her, they didn’t appreciate her like I did. They would lie to her and make her feel bad. I couldn’t stop her, that’s where she wanted to be. They even told her, that I talked bad about her. Which, I would never do! I mean how could I? She made me a better me! I loved her. Fuck! She believed them over me. I reached out because I needed a fix and … and she cursed me out. She blocked me. She said to me things I would never say… she told me things I would never do. It was all so sudden and I am just not the same. I cried for months.

Eventually, I had to move on. I didn’t want to but I had to. I tried a guy, I was new for both of us. My friend told me about him and fixed us up. It was a good friend and she said she trusted him, so I tried to trust him too. Before that first time, I wanted to get to know him so we met at a party. I takes me a while to warm up to people and openness with the last person was a fluke. He was cool, and had a similar vibe, so I thought this might work. He was okay, I mean he wasn’t bad at all. He added all the extra razzle dazzle to the experience and took his time with me. When he was finished, I looked beautiful, I felt beautiful, but it’s just was not the same. She was Mozart and I was her composition. With him, he needed my guidance, and input and sometimes I just don’t know what I want. I need you to know for me. I miss her.

Sigh! This break-up shit is tough.

If any of you have a hairdresser you could recommend, I would appreciate it.



Krysty Del

I’m just a girl standing in front of her computer asking you to read her. A writer of wrongs. A place where psychology, dating, politics, and fashion meet.