Why Can’t I Let Go Like He Did?

He’s going on with his life like nothing happened. He seems happy. He’s making plans for the future. Smiling. Breathing freely. Looking forward to whatever comes next… and I’m not part of it. Meanwhile, I’m here — sitting in the ruins of everything we built, trying to make sense of how someone I gave so much of myself to can walk away without looking back. I’m the one left sad, stuck, financially uncertain, and emotionally worn out. And I’m trying to keep it together for our child while quietly trying to hold my own heart in one piece.

I’m angry. Not just at him — mostly at myself. I’m mad that I gave so much to someone who doesn’t even think twice about me now. I’m mad that I’m still longing for a touch, a moment, some kind of sign that I mattered — while he’s already moved on like I never existed. Honestly, I think he might already be talking to someone else. The way he moves, the way he acts like I’m invisible, it’s like I was erased. This isn’t just painful. It’s real. It’s raw. And it makes me feel like he still holds power over my emotions — and he doesn’t even care.

I still want him to care. That’s the hardest part. I want him to notice that I’m not okay. I want him to see me again, to hold me like he used to, to feel even a fraction of what I feel for him. But he doesn’t. And no matter how much I wish he did, I can’t change that.

So I ask myself over and over — why can’t I be strong like him? Why can’t I just walk away like he did? Why can’t I just forget I’m married, like he so clearly has? Why can’t I just move on like those years meant nothing? I’m stuck here remembering anniversaries while he’s planning a life without me. Other couples will be giving flowers, gifts, and dinner plans. I’ll be grieving the fact that I’m giving myself the gift of letting go — because that’s all that’s left.

And maybe I am feeling sorry for myself. Maybe I’m just tired of carrying it all. But this grief isn’t just emotional — it’s physical. I feel it in my chest, in my body, in the weight I carry when I try to smile through it. I ask myself if I’m afraid of being alone… and maybe the answer is yes. Because this wasn’t supposed to be my story. This wasn’t supposed to be how my “forever” ended. I believed in us. I believed in marriage. I believed in him.

And now I have nothing else to hold on to but God. And even though I’m trying to trust Him, there are days I still ask why. Why did it have to happen this way? Why wasn’t the love enough? Why didn’t we get the miracle I prayed for?

Every time I hear his truck in the driveway, I feel sick. It’s a reminder that he’s only here to save money before he leaves. He’s not coming home because he loves me — he’s coming home to leave me. And every time I think I’m getting stronger, something knocks me back down. Our anniversary is in ten days, and I already feel it weighing on me. I’ve been thinking about last year… how different it felt. Even then, he didn’t really want to celebrate. He looked bothered just being around me. Like being with me was an obligation, not a choice.

I feel like I have no control in any of this. No control over him. No control over my emotions. No control over my own life right now. And that scares me. I’m spiraling, and I don’t know how to stop it. So I just keep whispering, “God, please hold me.” Because I can’t do this on my own.

And maybe — just maybe — this breakup will end up being the biggest blessing of my life. I keep telling myself that. Maybe it’s just taking time to feel like it. But right now? Right now it just hurts.

I don’t know why I keep choosing him when he’s already chosen himself. I don’t know why I can’t just let go. I don’t know why I’m still holding on to someone who let go of me a long time ago. I keep asking myself why I’m like this — why I love so deeply, why I stay so long, why I’m still hoping for something that’s clearly gone. And maybe the answer is simple… because that’s just who I am.

I’m soft. I’m loyal. I love hard. And even though this pain is breaking me wide open… maybe it’s also teaching me something.

Maybe I’m not weak for feeling this way.

Maybe I’m just finally becoming the version of me who will love herself the way no one else ever did.

I don’t know how to let go yet.

But I know I want to.

And that’s a start.

“She wasn’t weak for loving deeply.

She was brave for surviving the loss of what she thought would last forever.”

With love + truth,

💔 Aria Monroe 💗

Healing in real time. Choosing herself on purpose.