The One That Got Away
There was a moment not long after we separated when my ex texted me “I guess you’ll always be the one that got away.”
At the time, the words landed differently than he may be expected. They weren’t romantic, flattering, or bittersweet. They felt like a strange attempt to rewrite a story he has already lived in with me for years- a story where I was never “away.” I was right there, trying, hoping, asking him to meet me in the middle. I wasn’t running. I was waiting, calling out, trying to be seen.
If I “got away,” it wasn’t because I wanted to slip though his fingers like a love he couldn’t keep. It was because he kept closing his hand tightly. He didn’t treasure me; he gripped, controlled, dismissed and ignored the parts of me that were longing to be nurtured.
The truth is, I didn’t get away from him- I got away from the version of myself who kept shrinking to survive his behavior.
He said it as if he were losing something beautiful, he never got the chance to fully hold. But he did have the chance. He had years of it. He had a woman who wanted partnership. who tried to communicate, who brought creativity, loyalty, forgiveness into his life. He had someone who begged- silently and sometimes outloud- to be loved with gentleness, respect, and safety.
So when he says I’ll “always be the one that got away",” what he’s really admitting- maybe without even realizing it- is that I offered something he was never willing to protect.
I didn’t escape him. I finally chose myself. And I chose a life where love isn’t something I have to defend myself from. A love where I don’t have to beg for softness. A love where I don’t have to shrink, apologize, or endure.
So no- I am not “the one that got away.” I am the one who grew, healed, and walked away. Not because he couldn’t keep me, but because I deserve to stay somewhere I feel safe, respected, and truly loved.
