She says, “It’s something for myself.”

Epiphany.

After hearing words that I thought would only come out of my mouth to my boyfriend but not the other way around, along with an accident, I finally found an exit for myself.

All this time, I’ve always perceived myself as a dependent girlfriend—the half that gives all the emotions, that keeps no secrets, and is more afraid of being left behind. Simultaneously, I’ve always known somewhere deep down, I hated being like that. I wished I was stronger, less attached, and even less emotional.

Until today, because I found an exit. By exit, I mean an outlet where there is a little crawl space, a sense of privacy, and most importantly, a big part of myself.

It’s my pride. My pride in myself as a person who is so perfect and especially thoughtful for him; the kind of pride which brings me, and I never realized or was honest with myself (I’m not sure which), such high level of difficulty to admit it when I’m wrong, when I make mistakes. Back when I was young and when I told lies, I was the kind of kid who would lie and lie to cover previous lies, until I got completely busted. It wasn’t fully due to the consequences, but more because I didn’t want to be the wrong one; I didn’t want to be the kid who lied and had to be punished. I didn’t like the title of mistaker, and I disliked it so much that till this day, I denied the very fact in my trait that I am a prideful person who does not like to admit my faulty behaviors nor mere mistakes.
I didn’t want to admit to him that I too, do hurtful things to him, and I didn’t believe that I would be too, one who makes him feel insecure like how the dependent girlfriend feels, whom I always saw myself in. I didn’t want to tell him about my accident due to my carelessness, because I believed I was better than that—making careless yet rational mistakes, even though mistakes are mundane and forgivable.
It is in my pride where I finally saw myself as myself, where I saw my flaws, where I was facing the relationship with myself. I had a moment to think, because this is so interesting; the fact that there is almost like a double-self in me. I had the time to create this image of myself being so great of a girlfriend who was simultaneously insecure and incredibly attached was because I never admitted the other side of me—prideful, no matter with what.

Well, it’s not a secret anymore, at least not with myself.