The Hardest Piece I’ve Ever Written
There’s a Chilean proverb that says, “Si quieres resultados diferentes, no hagas siempre lo mismo”—if you want different results, don’t always do the same thing. It’s this line I clung to, knuckles white against the keyboard, as I stared down the hardest piece I’ve ever written. Spoiler: It wasn’t a 10,000-word deep dive into Latin American poetry or a tortured novel draft I quietly buried in the drawer. It was a breakup text.
I know, I know—how could something so short leave me spiraling in the emotional equivalent of quicksand? But sometimes, writing a few sentences can feel like untangling the world’s messiest set of headphones while blindfolded. Breakups, it turns out, are the perfect cocktail of personal baggage, cultural expectations, and—if you’re anything like me—a relentless inner critic who insists every line could use a rewrite.
Here’s what I learned while crafting the breakup text that nearly broke me, divided neatly into digestible tidbits I wish someone had shared with me before I started typing.
1. The Emotional Warm-Up: A Pre-Breakup Pep Talk
If you’re imagining me sitting in a sunny café with a flat white—chic yet heartache-adjacent—you’re giving me way too much credit. The truth is, I spent days drafting while devouring a suspicious number of alfajores and rehearsing the text aloud to an empty apartment. (My neighbors may or may not think I’m an aspiring telenovela actress obsessed with dramatic monologues.)
Before writing anything, I had to confront the real reason this message was so hard: it wasn’t just about the other person; it was about me. Breakups force us to navigate rejection, guilt, and the weight of what “failure” looks like in a world obsessed with curated Instagram love stories. Add to that the fact I was raised in a tight-knit community where everyone knows everyone’s business—and sometimes, your relationship choices feel like neighborhood gossip fodder.
What helped? I gave myself permission to admit I wasn’t a villain for ending things. No hidden agenda, heinous betrayal, or dramatic crescendo to explain away. I realized that breaking up doesn’t have to mean someone did something wrong; sometimes, it’s simply about two people wanting different paths forward. And before I could type a single word, I needed to believe that myself.
2. Drafting the Impossible: Making Every Word Do the Heavy Lifting
Writing a breakup text feels like writing a eulogy for something still alive. You want to honor what was shared but also close the door with kindness—and, ideally, not come across like a robot or a character in a bad Netflix rom-com.
My first attempt? A rambling 800-word essay that read like “It’s not you, it’s me” on steroids. My second? So terse I think Hemingway would’ve called it cryptic. Here’s what actually worked:
- Start simple. Nobody needs or wants a treatise. A breakup text is a shared moment of clarity, not your magnum opus.
- Own your feelings. Phrases like “I feel” and “I’ve realized” ensure you’re speaking for yourself, not projecting blame.
- Think balance. When I wrote, “You’ve been a wonderful influence in my life, and I’ll always be grateful for what we’ve shared, but I feel we’ve grown in different directions,” it struck the sweet spot between appreciation and honesty. Kind but firm, like a velvet hammer.
And yes, I agonized over the tone. I didn’t want to sound too casual (Who am I? Some Gen Z influencer breaking up via TikTok dance?) but also not overwrought. The trick is knowing your audience: Is this person sentimental? Sarcastic? A fan of directness? Channel that vibe (but keep it respectful).
3. Editing Is Caring: Cutting the Fluff and Getting Real
Do you know what’s worse than a poorly written breakup text? A novel-length one. By attempt number six—and yes, there were six—I realized the problem wasn’t just what I was saying, but how much. I’d added unnecessary details to justify my decision, as if I owed this person a TED Talk on the state of my feelings.
Here’s what an over-explained breakup message looks like:
“I’ve been reflecting on our communication styles and attachment frameworks… I think it’s best we part ways because I need time to explore my inner child vulnerabilities.”
No. Save that for your journal or your therapist. What people in this moment need is clarity, not a seminar on your psyche. I cut the psychological jargon and stayed human. Just human.
4. The Ghost of Breakup Culture: Why It’s Tempting, and Why It Hurts
I’ll admit, I was tempted to ghost. Not because I wanted to—lejos de eso—but because ghosting offers an easy escape from emotional confrontation. No explanation, no replies; just an eerie vanishing act into the dating fog.
But I kept thinking about the golden rule we learned as kids: Treat others how you’d want to be treated. I remembered how disorienting it felt to be on the receiving end of silence, especially after sharing a connection. My decision to write a proper goodbye was my way of being fair to the story we’d built, no matter how short-lived. You owe each other that much.
Ghosting might save face temporarily, but it robs both people of closure. And closure, as messy as it can be, is necessary for moving forward.
5. After the Send: Navigating the Post-Breakup Void
Once the text was sent—after a crescendo of deep breaths and pacing around like Penélope Cruz in an Almodóvar film—I was hit with what I can only call the breakup aftershock. Even when you know it’s the right choice, ending things leaves a strange emptiness behind. Like finishing a book you loved, but knowing you’ll never get to read its sequel.
This is where self-compassion comes in. I treated myself to an indulgent playlist of Mercedes Sosa and Natalia Lafourcade, rebuilt my resilience with long walks through Santiago’s Cerro Santa Lucía park, and—for better or worse—committed to not over-analyzing every potential typo in the message.
The big lesson? There’s power in letting go, and that includes letting go of how perfectly you phrased, or didn’t phrase, your words.
Final Thoughts: Writing, Loving, Letting Go
So, was it really the hardest piece I’ve ever written? Yes—and not because of the time it took or the drafts I scrapped, but because of the vulnerability it demanded. It asked me to be clear about what I wanted, honest about what we couldn’t be, and brave enough to walk away even when staying felt easier.
Breakups are messy, emotionally charged, and full of moments where you question every comma. But in their rawness, they teach us something important: how to make space for growth, both yours and theirs.
And if you’re currently dreading a hard conversation, take this parting advice:
- Be kind, but don’t dilute your truth.
- Keep it simple.
- And lastly, when in doubt, remember Oprah’s wisdom: “Say what you need to say, with love.” Because love can still exist in endings, even if it’s not the kind forever was made of.
You’ve got this. And when it feels impossible? Trust me—you’ll be better for it.