I crown you with your suffering

Someone who went through a friendship breakup with my ex-partner temporarily moved in with me. In the beginning, I was super reluctant. I already had such a complicated relationship, and now there was more complication I needed to handle?

And I think it was hard on both of us. (Well, at least for me.) One processes the loss of her best friend, and one processes the complications of romance.

We treated each other with a lot of kindness, but I bet the triggers were still in the air, as both of us were in intimate relationships. This roommate complained a lot about them, and followed up with things like, “I will not be able to trust other people anymore,” “I cannot sleep with you because I don’t want to sleep in the same bed with friends anymore,” “No, no, no emotional manipulation here,” and “I felt like I was divorced.”

A lot of the time, I felt really worried because I felt that the pain my previous partner had caused others was propagating in this world. As a person who I was deeply connected with, of course, I empathized and understood where it came from, but seeing this kind stranger going through it was also unbearable.

It’s a sad but funny story. Her friendship breakup traumatized her so much that she is losing trust in people. But it’s also funny because she complained about them so much that sometimes I wonder if she was actually thereal ex, and my memory is completely wrong. I think I should give her the title of “ex,” given the amount of pain she felt.

Her presence is triggering for me as well, because of the similarities among all of us — hyper-thoughtful and sensitive to other people’s emotions. I think I cannot unsee my ex in her, and I guess she might feel the same too. I don’t know.

One night, she gave me a secretive look and wanted to show me something very important. She took out a deck of profile photos in her wallet. Most were hers, but some were of people really close to her. I guessed the photos were a representation of those she deeply cherishes. When I flipped through her photos, I saw a few of her friends with hijabs, but on the last one, it was the photo of my ex.

When I saw it, I felt a bit nervous. Given her anger, I thought she might tear the photo apart. I didn’t dare to make a noise. But many thoughts were running through my mind. Should I give her scissors? Does she feel disgusted now?

Instead, she gently put all the photos together back in her wallet. In that moment, I felt a quiet ache within me. I witnessed the depth of her love, sustaining her even as she carried so much pain.

Or maybe that’s why she carried so much pain.