I Remember How He Used Me — And Why Letting Go Was the Hardest Thing I Ever Did

NANA BROKLYN WIJAYA - There was a time when love felt like survival.

Not romance.
Not partnership.
Not warmth.

Just survival.

Tonight, I found myself remembering him — not with longing, not with pain — but with clarity. And for the first time, I can say this out loud:

He never loved me.
He only needed me.

And there is a difference.

When “Love” Was Just Convenience

Back then, I thought love meant being available.

He called when he was lonely.
He came when he needed comfort.
He stayed when it was convenient.

But when I needed reassurance?
When I needed consistency?
When I needed to feel chosen?

He disappeared.

I was his safe place.
But he was never mine.

I gave him loyalty.
He gave me uncertainty.

I gave him devotion.
He gave me silence.

And somehow, I kept convincing myself that this was love.

Why Was It So Hard to Leave?

This is the part I still try to understand.

If he was that cruel — emotionally distant, selfish, only present when it benefited him — why was I the one who struggled to let go?

Why did I defend him when my friends saw the truth?
Why did I cry over someone who barely fought to keep me?

The truth is uncomfortable.

Because sometimes, we don’t fall in love with the person.
We fall in love with the hope of who they could be.

I wasn’t holding onto him.
I was holding onto potential.

I was addicted to the rare moments he made me feel special — even if those moments were crumbs.

And when you’re starving for love, crumbs can feel like a feast.

The Illusion of Being Needed

He needed me.

And that felt powerful.

He needed my attention.
He needed my softness.
He needed my forgiveness.

But he never needed to change.

He never needed to choose me fully.
He never needed to protect my heart.

And that’s when I realized something painful:

Being needed is not the same as being loved.

Love stays.
Love shows up.
Love gives — not just takes.

What we had was imbalance disguised as intimacy.

The Day I Finally Saw the Truth

It didn’t happen in one dramatic moment.

It happened slowly — like waking up from a dream.

I started noticing how tired I was.
How anxious I felt waiting for his messages.
How small I became just to keep him comfortable.

I was shrinking.

And the worst part?

I thought shrinking was compromise.

The day I finally chose myself was quiet. No fight. No screaming. Just clarity.

And clarity is powerful.

Why I’m Grateful It’s Only a Memory Now

Tonight, when I think about him, I don’t feel rage.

I feel gratitude.

Because that version of me — the girl who accepted half-love — is no longer here.

I am no longer begging for attention.
I am no longer romanticizing bare minimum effort.
I am no longer confusing loneliness with love.

It’s just a memory now.

And that is growth.

Sometimes I wonder why it was so hard to let go.

But maybe the difficulty was necessary.

Because releasing him taught me my worth.

It taught me that love should not hurt more than it heals.
It taught me that being alone is better than being used.
It taught me that I deserve to be chosen — fully, clearly, proudly.

And tonight, I whisper this to myself:

Thank God it was a lesson.
Not a lifetime.

— Nana ✨