I still love him.
I still love Disney too.
I still believe in happily-ever-after and in Prince Charming who will sweep you off your feet, making all your troubles disappear with a smile. Then why am I not with him? Why did I feel so desperate to be on my own again? Why did I crave freedom when he never caged me? I didn't know the answer to this question back then. However, I do now and thank the heavens for that. The amount of guilt, panic attacks and disgust directed solely at me that I had to overcome isn't easy to talk about. It's very hard if we're being brutally honest. I'm an aromantic asexual, or at least I think that I am. And you know what, I'm okay with that. I wasn't always but I am now. It took me 17 years of my life to realize that I might be aromantic and trust me when I say that it came as the biggest surprise to me. I've always loved LOVE. The idea of being in love has always intrigued me. One of my biggest dreams is to have the most epic love story of all time. Or at least, it used to be. I don't know if I'll ever want that again. Sometimes I think I do while at other times it makes me want to puke. What happened was that I was dating a guy I was insanely in love with. We had even planned our wedding. It was a bit early considering we're only 17 but that just shows how serious we were. Out of nowhere, my brain decides that love is disgusting. Where I'd always loved the idea of having someone to cuddle with after a long tiring day, it now made me physically ill. Now, it wasn't easy to deal with this. I truly did love the guy and I still do. I think the term we can use here is ‘platonic’. I don't really care about labels anymore. Basically what I'm trying to say is, being from a country where the main purpose of a woman is to get married and bear children, it wasn't easy to deal with aromanticism and asexuality. Combine our country's narrow minded thinking with my previous infatuation with *love*, let's just say panic attacks were the norm for some time in my life. I broke things off with my boyfriend and sucked. He thought I was making excuses. He said it wasn't ‘normal’ which hurt just as much, if not more, than what I was already feeling. I spent quite a few nights wallowing in guilt and self-hatred. But then, it slowly dawned on me. Not all at once, mind you. It dawned on me slowly but gradually that it wasn't my fault. If i was feeling something, it was my right to deal with it however I thought would help me most. Hurting people on purpose is never okay, but your mental health matters most. Hating yourself for hurting someone when you couldn't have helped it is very wrong. Staying with my boyfriend and hating it secretly all the while would've been worse. For one, I'd be lying. And for another, it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I don't know how long this will last, if I am actually asexual or if this is just a temporary phase. All I know is how I feel right now and that I need to do what's best of me when it comes to my sexuality and my mental happiness. This is not selfish and this is not wrong. This is my right as a human. Took me a long time to realize this but I'm glad I did. Y'all out there struggling with your sexuality, take your time. Figure it out on your own terms. You got this.