What Did I Do in Love?
Not what I lost. Not who they became.
Just one question: What did I truly do when I gave my heart, fully, each time?
This isn’t for closure.
This is a record: of all the things I did without hesitation, without expecting anything back.
A record I owe myself.
I gave.
Not in the poetic, Instagram-caption way.
I gave in the real way: with time, energy, presence, memories, laughter, silence, and soul.
This isn’t a story about what they did.
It’s about what I did.
I Developed a New Connection
We were in college, at that age when everything feels fresh, chaotic, and alive.
I had just started working during my degree, not because I needed to, but because I was hungry to build something early.
I used to tell her about my work, my ambitions, my mistakes, my insecurities: all of it.
I never tried to act smart or successful. I shared the messy parts too.
And she listened, without judgment.
That was our thing. We understood each other’s chaos.
We were just two young people figuring out life together.
I Listened Like It Was My Job
I stayed up late just to hear her talk about her day. And she did it too.
Sometimes she didn’t even want advice, just space to vent.
And I gave it. No clock watching. No half-listening.
I remember lying on my terrace during college nights, phone to my ear at 2 AM,
just so she could sleep peacefully after finishing her assignments.
I Taught Her Code, She Taught Me Calm
She was impatient.
I was too intense.
But we found rhythm: on calls, screen sharing, solving bugs, failing, trying again.
We laughed when she made typos.
She’d call me “Sir” just to tease.
And I’d act like I was frustrated when, in reality, I loved every second of it.
I Loved Quietly
I didn’t make reels about our story.
I didn’t post couple goals.
I was too busy living it.
We watched movies, shared playlists, talked about weird childhood dreams.
And every time I saw her eat something she liked, smile wide, and say “This is so good.”
it felt like a win.
I Let My Guard Down. For Real
With her, I cried.
I spoke about my fears, my mental pressure as I'm an overthinker.
She saw me Quiet. Angry. Hurt. Lost.
And I didn’t hide it. I let her in.
Maybe for the first time, I wasn’t performing.
I was just me.
I Helped Her Level Up
My second relationship started differently:
through chats, jokes, casual flirting.
But when things turned real, I stepped up.
She was switching jobs, unsure of herself.
And I was there.
Every night, reviewing her emails, fixing her CV, solving her tasks.
She used to say to everyone,
“I wouldn’t be here if he was not there.”
And it's a huge thing.
And I believe it, because I saw her rise and I knew I was part of that.
I Held Her. And I Meant It
She wasn’t my first. But with her, it felt like everything was new again.
There were nights we just lay there,
not rushing, not proving anything, just holding each other like the world paused.
Before we kissed, I didn’t even know we were more than friends.
Her silence wasn’t distance. It was comfort.
We weren’t just close physically. We were safe in each other’s warmth.
And that, to me, was beautiful.
The kind that stays even when the people don’t.
I Didn’t Just Support Her, I Invested
Time, effort, career advice, emotional stability, I gave it all.
Even when I moved cities, I stayed consistent:
Calls. Care. Check-ins. Encouragement.
And when she shifted to my city, I thought it would be better.
But she became distant.
Fights started.
Still, I kept trying.
Until the final day came: no fight, no closure, just silence.
I Didn’t Let Bitterness Win
After everything, I didn’t hate.
I didn’t post breakup stories.
I didn’t try to replace anyone.
I stayed real. I stayed soft.
Because what I did in love, I did with clarity.
And no one can take that away from me.
So, What Did I Do in Love?
- I gave without measuring
- I held back my ego
- I showed up when needed
- I made them laugh till they cried
- I memorized their moods, not just their birthdays
- I touched with respect
- I stayed even when it was heavy
- I backed off when it was time
What Changed in Me
After all the heartbreaks,
I became calm, quiet, firm — determined to never be in love again.
But taking out this expressionless face is not a good thing.
So, I let my humor out and wore a mask:
a mask of a smiling, laughing, joke-making person.
And most of the time, people wouldn’t recognize the person behind this mask,
waiting for the day when someone will come and remove this mask completely.
That’s what I did in love.
And I don’t regret a single part of it.
Comments
(0)