“I can’t imagine my life without you”.
The crying. The playlists. The paragraphs.
The whole ‘my world has ended because one person left it’ thing. So dramatic.
I didn’t really get it.
People break up all the time. You cry, you eat a lot, you get a terrible haircut, and you listen to sad music for a few weeks. Eventually, you’re fine. Life moves on.
And then it happened with me- I had to let go. Lose friendships, to be specific.
Not always dramatically. Sometimes there was a fight; sometimes someone hurt you one too many times. Sometimes you just slowly stopped talking until one day you realised you hadn’t spoken in months.
And that was when it hit me: losing someone isn’t really just about losing the person.
You’re losing everything that existed with them.
The inside jokes you’ll never make again. The stupid stories you’ll never tell the same way. The places that only became special because you went there together. The version of you that existed around them. The person you automatically wanted to tell things to.
You’re not just losing a person; you’re losing a tiny little world.
And suddenly, breakups didn’t seem so dramatic anymore.
Because imagine doing that with someone you love.
Imagine having a person woven deeply into your everyday life and then having to learn how to exist without them. No more good morning texts. No more telling them what happened in class. No more seeing them and automatically knowing what they’re thinking. No more “come here” when you need a hug. No more having that one person who feels like home.
And the worst part is knowing that you would eventually be okay.
I think that’s what scares me the most.
I know I’d survive.
I’d cry, I’d be miserable. I’d probably romanticise the relationship and convince myself I would never love anyone like that again. I’d have nights where I’d stare at my phone and miss them so badly it would physically hurt.
And then, eventually, I’d have a good day.
Then another.
I’d laugh without thinking about them. I’d meet new people. I’d become obsessed with something else. I’d start building a life- one which had no trace of them.
And one day I’d realise I hadn’t thought about them that morning. Knowing that I’d be okay doesn’t make losing them any less horrible.
“I’ll be okay” and “I want this to end” are two completely different things.
I think I used to misunderstand what people meant when they said they couldn’t imagine their life without someone. It’s not that they couldn’t; they can.
They just mean they don’t want to have to imagine it. I don’t want to either.
And maybe that’s the real tragedy of losing someone you love: not that your life ends, but that a life you genuinely wanted to live with them does.
There are so many futures that can disappear when a relationship ends.
The trips you never took. The birthdays you won’t spend together. The apartment you never lived in. The stupid arguments you’ll never have. The ordinary Tuesday nights that never get to happen.
You grieve things that never existed.
And maybe that’s why breakups are so dramatic. But that is just proof.
Proof that you loved till it consumed you whole.
You’ll survive; that’s almost guaranteed. And sometimes, that fact isn’t particularly comforting.
Maybe love is scary precisely because it gives another person the ability to leave a space in your life that nobody else can fill in quite the same way.
So yes, Breakups are dramatic.
And selfishly, I never want to get better at understanding them.
Writer: Rishika Didwania
Grade: 2nd Year Psychology Undergrad (Year 2026)
Place: Hyderabad, India
