7 Phases We Go Through After a Breakup


There are 7 phases in the Andrea road to moving on after a breakup. I seem to go through them several times before I feel better. Rinse and repeat as necessary!

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1. Crying

I have a love/hate relationship with this step, but I attribute that love to my affinity for wine. In my experience that first initial blow is the worst. If you knew it was coming I think we all secretly hope that we will be the ones to make the decision. The worst kind of break up is the one you don’t see coming. Maybe you told yourself that it would just blow over or that it was JUST a rough patch. Either way, I don’t believe that we’re ever really “ready” for that moment when it comes.

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Advice: Cry it out, girl. Call your bestie, have her bring over a bottle (or box) of wine, listen to some T-Swift, and cry it out!

 

2. Sadness

The sad panda phase is probably the most annoying and aching part of the whole breakup process. From a friend point of view we’re just trying to get you out, but you’re just not having it. I get it, I’ve definitely been greasy headed and melted into my couch with a Merlot ice cream float. If you need to Google the saddest TV episodes of all times and hate watch One Tree Hill that’s perfectly acceptable. So many angsty feels!

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Advice: This is your pity party and you can not shower if you want to!

 

3. Anger

I say anger, but what I really mean is like angry stalking, haters gon hate, petty type of phase. I’ve done it all so there is rarely anything my friends do that surprises me or is cause for judgment. Yes, I made my 12 year old brother add my ex’s new girlfriend on Facebook so I could stalk her. She doesn’t read? Fucking Phil-Phil (philistine). Perhaps you indulge in the ceremonial burnings of all remnants of your relationship. Personally during this stage I find myself flipping off her car and talking about her foot fungus and abnormally small left eye to anyone who will listen.

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Advice: Hate her. Hate the new gf. Scream. Burn. I find anger to be extremely cathartic. And burning stuff…there is catharsis in that as well.

 

4. Drinking

Oh, come on…this is just a natural part of the process. We finally find the strength to wash our hair, turn off Netflix, log off of Facebook, and wash our hairs. We give into our best friends plea to go out and have fun again. I find my playlist going from Taylor to Beyonce because I’m a single lady who deserves to be up in the club doing her own lil thing! If you have good friends they will take your phone away from me you before that 5th shot of tequila convinces you that the drunk text to your ex is a good idea.

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Advice: Don’t make rookie mistakes. You can sleep off a hangover but the post drunk text humiliation will haunt you for WEEKS!

 

5. Haircut

We are all guilty of the “break-up haircut”. I’m convinced that shedding your lustrous locks will somehow rid of your old self and your shitty feelings. It’s true! You are killing that new fringe, girl! Then again there is the hairstylist that convinces you that a pixie cut is going to kill on you. Hello, six months of hats and indoor activities! Less is more, friends. Be subtle.

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Advice: Try a nice ombre or side bangs and ALWAYS phone a friend before you cut off more than 6 inches. The Skrillex may seem like an awesome edgy choice now, but think ahead 4 months when it starts to awkwardly grow back.

 

6. Keeping Busy

After all of this maybe you find yourself flipping off and kicking the tire of every red Mini Cooper you see. The best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten is to find a hobby. It doesn’t matter what you do, but find something that you genuinely enjoy doing. I promise that I’m less ashamed of my book binding classes than I am of the 3 months prior that I spent obsessing over her. Take a cooking class. Lose yourself in a good book. Learn about coffee or how to properly use a French press. Run. Hike. Explore. Find something you can lose yourself in and slowly you’ll find that there is more time that passes between thinking of her.

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Advice: Adopting cats is not a suitable way of keeping busy. 1 cat = companionship. 9 = crazy cat lady.

 

7. Moving On

FINALLY!! Moving on does NOT necessarily mean that you met someone new. Actually, most of the time that is a ruse…we call this, the rebound. Moving on isn’t always about being happy with how or why it happened, but just accepting that you can’t change it. It’s being ready to move forward and turn that corner in hopes of finding something better. If you have not already, you unfriend them on FB and stop following them on IG. You realize that everyone deserves to be happy and maybe that Phil-Phil makes her happy, but more importantly you deserve the same thing from someone who wants to give it to you. Just be careful not to go all Carly Rae Jepsen on anyone.

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Advice: You made it through the fire, the haircuts, and if we’re being truthfully, several drunk texts. I’ll spare you the myriad of platitudes…let yourself be happy! Success is yours!

 


Sorry, no post about breakups is complete with out Lauren Conrad!

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Love and the Senses

It amazes me how strongly our emotions are tied to our senses. There are the obvious examples, of course, but fascinating are those that surprise us.

I have experienced the desire that I associate with a certain perfume. I have been brought to tears by photographs that depict the utter desolation of the disenfranchised. I have hopelessly pined for the taste of a kiss laced with cigarettes and chapstick. These feelings are almost a cliché. What of touch? What of hearing? Far be it from me to speak for the masses, but these are senses that offer no emotional reverberation. I will forget the way her voice sounds at 3am. Time will pass and I will not be able to recall the feeling of her hands on my body.

I heard her voice today for the first time in almost two years. I wish it were what you may be thinking, but it isn’t. I watched a video of us trying to open a wine bottle with a screw and a hammer. I giggled at myself trying to showboat in front of her for a few minutes. As the video came to an end my nostalgia was curdled by the sound of her voice. I felt my chest tighten as I slammed the screen shut.

I was surprised by my reaction to something so trivial. It was just her voice. I am not pained by the sight of her smile or the sparkle in her eyes. I don’t find myself emotionally provoked as I read through the stories I’ve written about her. I rarely find myself missing her. I find that my other senses are so frequently stimulated by her resonance in my world that I’ve become desensitized to it. Sound is such a deemphasized sense, but it carries with it the force to profoundly move us.

 

Voices make people real again instead of characters in your mind.

 

There will be a person in your life that will defy all of your self imposed logic. She will haunt the years of your life suddenly, slowly, without warning, and never directly. You will navigate the many channels of your life without feeling her influence or the impact of her once constant scrutiny. She was a woman of little fortitude and devoid of substance, but she resonates. You will find a better woman. You will feel a better love. There are no romantic sentiments to be found in the memories you carry. She fell out of your heart, your life, and unexplainably into a space of tenderness.

She exists in your memory simply because you exist as you are. It proves difficult to separate someone influential from your own self perception. I cannot regress back to who I was before I met her. I evolved. Never will I be so naïve. I will not wander into situations with an infantile hope for a happily ever after. I will not ever be so oblivious to my own cruelty. I’ve been frighteningly self aware of my faults, my limitations, and my strengths because of her. I could no sooner separate her from who I am than I could pull the darkness from the night sky. I am me solely because of who she was.

The Heartache of Falling Out of Love

Today I was thinking about the dissolution of relationships. I found myself pondering if it bothers anyone that our intentions rarely remain the same throughout a relationship. Why is it that it is so easy for us to fall in love with another person, but so painful to fall out of love with them? Who made the decision to leave is negligible. It hurts everyone. As people there is no real consistency to our emotions. There are too many catalysts that act upon it that determine how we’ll act or feel on any given day. Even love, the feeling we give so freely is susceptible to fickleness.


 The day of the big change may come differently. You may wake up one morning, look beside you, and know that somehow and perhaps, suddenly; the person you’re looking at is different. Everything about them has changed.


You no longer fit into their nook. Your hands suddenly feel foreign to each other. You’re suddenly conscious of all the things that have changed. Perhaps you take some time to figure it out, but slowly find that the hole they once occupied is closing and their presence there is now uncomfortable and strange. The truth is that they are not the one who has changed. It is you.

When did it happen? Was it in the weekends you spent with your friends? Was it in the fights that quickly escalated from snide comments to personal attacks? It seemed to have happened suddenly and so slowly. We quietly ignore the piece of us that began to care a little less as the days passed. It crushes you. I think at times we even wish we could reverse time to avoid what happens next. There is seldom a fix to this.


Roads end. Books run out of pages. All relationships have expiration dates. We didn’t come prepared for this. We could have never foreseen that our love would cease to exist.


Entering into a relationship is making a promise you know you will break. You’re promising someone that you are not going to hurt them or let them down. We promise to always love them. The truth is that we can only make promises as to what we wish our future might hold. We ultimately make the one promise that we could never keep. When the inevitable break comes all of those promises are suddenly suspended between us like broken shards of glass. Sometimes we try to brush them away only to leave ourselves bloodied. Other times we wield them as weapons against each other because it is easier to attack than to defend. The breaking of these promises makes lovers into enemies and causes us to inflict so much pain to those we claim to love.

There will be a day when you look into a set of eyes that you have looked at a million times over. You will see all the love, trust, and admiration for you in those deep oceans. You will see what you have always seen. What you will notice on the worst day is that while nothing you are looking at has changed the reflection has. You suddenly see yourself and all of your apathy. It will break your heart in ways that you could not imagine. You dig deeper and it feels that there is a different heart beating in your chest. You, the images, the hopes, and the dreams within your head have changed.


She only sees the beautiful, perfect you and all you can see is who you lost.


You are no longer the person you have been in the last few weeks, months, or years. You, much like your love, have been lost in the past. In the past is where it will stay.

Choose This

Today was definitely one of those days when I wish I could have wrapped up in my blankets and pretended life was not actually happening. Alas, the world never stops spinning. I don’t get to press “Pause” on my life. I read something today that just really resonated. It was about people kind of venting to their friends and what purpose it served. It all really made sense and tied into how I’ve been feeling recently. I wrote this in hopes that I would be better able to process how I was feeling and to obviously make myself feel better. My pep talk worked. 

 


 

Mistakes are these beautiful hiccups in life whose existence is rooted in making us wiser. The word holds a negative connotation, but by its very definition it is simply an action or a judgement that was misguided.


We judge ourselves and other far too harshly. You cannot accurately assess anything about yourself or your situation if your existence is devoid of faults. Mistakes shine light on your relationships and who you are as an individual. Mistakes teach us life lessons. The teach us to forgive. You gain confidence and experience from every new mistake that you make. I love mistakes because they show us where we are and where we want to be. It provides a baseline to become better at the things we love.

Life is arbitrary. It’s fucked and it’s random and it can be devastatingly unfair. You don’t need to change yourself or change anything at all to be happy. Life does not care about your plans. Life can be heartbreaking and it can be beautiful, but its out of your control. The only thing that you can control in life is your own actions and reaction. This life can be so beautiful if you just stopped to let it in. The problem with people is that our hopes and what we believe will make us happy is invested in our future. We wish away our days waiting for better ones. As a society we’re entitled and we lack any real insight as what we require to be happy. Every day you get to wake up and smile and laugh and love and make new choices. You’re allowed to hit “Refresh” on your life. You are given the opportunity to evolve with each new day and its something that people fail to appreciate.


People are constantly looking for validation. It is the human condition. We need someone else to tell us what we are worth.


It is part of our constant search to feel as if our choices were the right ones and if our view on our own life is correct. The issue with constantly seeking validations from others is that you are leaving yourself invariably vulnerable to people that will wish to diminish your light. Nobody will ever know your experiences in the way that you do. Our analysis of said experiences may be muddled with self-doubt, resentment, or guilt, but it is uniquely yours. Asking someone to tell you who you are is unfair to everyone involved. If you have to ask I fear that there is no hope that what is said to you will really resonate. 

No matter what you have ever done, you can be better. You are not the sum total of your mistakes. You have the right to make your own choices. You are entitled to your opinions. You are allowed to have bad days. You are worthy of sympathy. You are worthy of understand. You have value. You deserve all of the love and beautiful things that life will so frequently lavish you with.


Choose yourself. Choose this life. This is the day when everything can turn around.


 

The Broken Pieces Shine Like Stars


The pieces of us that are broken after a breakup aren’t the pieces of our heart. I think they’re what surround it…love, trust, loyalty, safety. At what point do we decide not to sift through the pieces in search of the truth and simply refuse to cut ourselves on all that’s shattered?


I think that I’ve been down playing this situation as much as possible because I’m trying to avoid what will inevitably come next. How do you begin to comprehend that the woman you built your dreams around has lied about everything? How do I deal with the fact that I’m still very much in love with someone who is capable of doing this to me? I tend to have the answers people need to hear when I’m asked, but I know I cannot get the answers to my questions.

For one whole day I took the role of Nic’s protector. I tried to understand. I tried to justify her actions in a way that would allow for her gf to forgive her. Yes, I gave the love of my life advice to get the love of HER life back. I think it stemmed from her telling me that I ruined her life by being a part of it and I was so stunned. She ruined mine when she told me the truth. I felt guilty so I pardoned her. The truth is, I can wrap my mind around those mistakes. I know that we’re susceptible to indiscretions and when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s hard for me to judge her. She didn’t know what she wanted. She was stuck between what she had and what she wanted. It made sense and I think I really just rationalized because I didn’t want to be  mad at her.

 


I’m the girl who tries to see the best in people. I’m loyal. On your worst days, my love will never waiver.


 

I just find myself going back and forth between despising her and missing her more than I think I should. The person I loved was very different than the girl she turned out to be. I wish I could sit down and talk to her, but I know that it would be a grave mistake. I think I’d be happy without even talking if I could just see her. My heart tends to be a masochist. My head only wants to understand how and why this occurred. The struggle ravages my mind and I just can’t seem to shake it. I want answers. I want an apology. I wish that none of this had happened. I miss her, but am I even missing the real Nic?

It took me a few years to get to the point that I was able to really date someone in a serious manner. I was emotionally unavailable for a few years after my last ex and I broke up. I didn’t think that I’d love anyone again, not like that anyway, but I was wrong. I learned what love meant to me in those years. I realized how I wanted to love and how I wanted others to love me. I dated casually, but I made a point to be receptive to learning what made relationships work and I asked questions about what people expected and needed and wanted. I think people really believe they need so many things in relationships, but that’s where we make the mistake. We don’t need them…we want them. We throw that word on it and when we don’t get it we see that relationship as a dead end. I used to think that I needed someone to be around all of the time. I realized in a few years how great it is to be alone and that the time you spend with someone isn’t as important as the quality of it.


I love people differently. I love your flaws and quirks and your bad days. I want to see who you are when people aren’t looking and when you’re not trying to impress anyone. When you meet the right person they illuminate all of our dark corners. I only want the opportunity to love every part of you that you find unlovable.


Love isn’t sunshine and rainbows. It should be something you do with intent and focus. You should wake up and choose to love her even if today is her at her worst. V (my ex) tore me to bits and I thought I’d never get over it. She did me a great favor. I learned more about myself and who I wanted to be than I ever had before her.

Nic seemed to get it all. She understood how guarded I was at times. She tried to understand how my mind worked and why. She didn’t always agree with me and we would table several conversations just to come back to them a few months later and have her agree with me. She made me feel listened to you. She made me feel understood. That was the best thing about our relationship. For someone who enjoys talking so much I found myself just wanting to listen to her. Not just listen, but really HEAR what she was trying to say to me. That was what I wanted. I wanted someone who made me THINK different. I wanted someone to challenge me. I knew what I wanted and I just wanted love her.


 

When everything happened she told me that she didn’t want to be without me. I didn’t want to, but I did it for her. I know everyone says that, but it was true. When we’re surrounded by those that we’ve hurt we’re inclined to fix our relationships without tackling why it was that we did these things. Is that what it means to love unconditionally and selflessly? Why does it have to hurt so much?


 

I understand that she’s trying to salvage her relationship. I do hope that it works out for her. Is it wrong to just want her to make a grand apology? My ex made me question my self worth (at 22, that’s not exactly difficult), but Nic makes me question my willingness to trust people. I’m not sure that the bounce back from that will be as easy.

 

Things I ask myself on a far too regular basis…

1. “Am I dressing too young?”

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Bye, bye, orange skinny jeans.
That means you too, Uggs!

 

2. Is that extra glass of wine really worth it?

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Who am I kidding? I have a whole box!

 

3. Is 7pm too early to go to bed?

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Up past 10pm? I’m an adult. I have shit to do tomorrow.

 

4. Should I try bangs again?

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Before- Everyone: “Do it. It’s going to look SO cute.”
After- Everyone: “Don’t worry about it. They’ll grow out.”
FML!!

 

5. Why has my metabolism broken up with me?

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“Yeah, remember in college when you could eat ANYTHING? Put down the donut, fatty.”
I thought we had a good thing going…

 

6. Why can’t I just be like Ellen and land a sexy wife like Portia DeRossi?

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Or a girl with big boobs. That’ll work for me too.

 

7. Is she a lesbian or just a hipster?

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“The hair? The shoes? The plaid?”
Hipsters ruined my gaydar.

 

8. What did I ever do before coffee?

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“I haven’t finished my iced expresso. Don’t come at me with no bullshit!

 

9. How many pairs of shoes do I REALLY need?

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Who am I kidding? Of course I need 4 pairs of running shoes, these wedges, 3 pairs of vans, my moccasins, my Birkenstocks, flip flops, and… *SMH*

 

10. How did I just lose my whole weekend binge watch Orange Is The New Black?

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“I’m only going to watch a few episodes before I’m a productive adult.”
Hours later.
“What the shit happened to the sun.”
It’s 3 am.

 

Well, this successful helped the last 3 hours fly! The duty blues are ze worst. Time to start on the beauty that is “Cat Saturday”!!

And this was my story for her…

I’ve never had a forum for this story before now, but I guess now I’m going to put it out there for anyone and everyone. Enjoy, I’ve held onto this one for 2 years.

If you asked me what was wrong with her I would have told you, “Nothing. She’s a lost girl just trying to figure it all out.” When she asked me what was wrong with her I simply told her that we’re 22, and there was no reason as to why we had to figure it out just yet. When I asked myself what was wrong with her I just sighed. There was a myriad of ideas that flowed so rhythmically through my mind. She was lost. She was fragile. She was hopelessly beautiful. She was reckless. She was self-destructive. She was naïve. She was closed off. She was cold. She was stubborn. She was malicious. It was as if there was no end to what was wrong with this typhoon of a woman.

To know her was to be completely engulfed in everything that she was and in all the things that you wished you could be to her. Loving her was like drowning. The water thrashing you around and you felt as if you were caught in a current that you’d never be able to escape from. The more you fought it the more it pained you. In those last moments before you allowed her to consume you completely there was calm. In that moment there was just the two of you, and it was beautiful. This was the ending that you chose. You chose her and it didn’t matter what the end brought as long as it was with her. This wouldn’t last. This wouldn’t a mutual end. Life would not be a beautiful disaster.

Let’s start from the beginning.

To fully comprehend who she was and what she meant you’d have to know a little about me. I was the girl who loved too much and too frequently. I was fickle. I enjoyed the chase. I didn’t know the meaning of loyalty. I was lust hungry. I needed to be someone’s everything and I needed them to make me feel worthwhile. My identity was derived from who I was dating and how much they loved me. I was a selfish person. I manipulated people and situation for my benefit. To be honest I played games just to see how far I could take things. The worst thing about me is that it was all a point of pride for me. In retrospect, I blame it on being young and immature. Too many years of having to do what I had to just so I could to get by. A terrible life can make you into a terrible person if you let it. I allowed myself to continue this behavior far after the craziness had stopped. I craved the chaos. I didn’t know what to do when things were just good. I was always waiting for the other shoe to fall. I was very undeserving of the affection I got from others, but this won’t always be the case.

Enough about me…this isn’t really my story. It’s hers.

She was angelic. She looked up from what she was doing and I saw the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were the most amazing shade of blue with strands of yellow in them. To compare it to the most awe inspiring sunsets was to discredit the wonder that were her eyes. It was like seeing the first morning rays of sun as they reflect off a deep blue sea for the first time. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of it all. Then she smiled at me. I melted. She had a smile that could change your whole mood. It could change the way you looked at your life when you walked away. It was as if everything was illuminated. I had never set eyes on anything more captivating in my entire life. The day I walked into that room I knew that this girl was it. In that moment I was absolutely certain that this girl was going to completely ruin me.


The beauty does not lie in the details of how or why we met, but in the wonder of how deeply I fell in love with this complete stranger.


 

If we jump forward a few awkward weeks you’d find me completely in love with wonderful woman who loved me back. I never knew what it was to make love. To give yourself in ways that you didn’t realize you were capable of. I’d get butterflies touching her face or reaching for her hand. This was the kind of love that could save your life. She was the kind of woman that could turn things around for someone like me.  I adored her and the look on her face when she would glance at me just weakened me at my core. I wanted so badly to deserve her love. In my mind to fathom a greater love story than the one we were living was doing a disservice to what we found with each other. There are simply no words to truly define the feeling that you experience when you believe you’ve found true love.

As we all know, good times must all come to an end. Problems arise as in any relationship and it tests the love that you’ve built together. We fall in love and we fall out of love. We share intimate moments and sad goodbyes. We exchange words filled with angst and animosity only to return and share words so emotionally pure that to do more than whisper them would destroy their sanctity. She told me that we were fighting to keep us together. If there was anything in the world worth fighting for it was her. I shared moments with her that will resonate with me for the rest of my life. Finding her was like catching lightning in a bottle; losing her threatened to completely unhinge me. In the ups and downs I found new reasons and ways to be happy.  She’d leave and come back. She hated me and she loved me.  She thought that I deserved more, and maybe I did, but she was all I wanted. Throughout the roller coaster that preceded the end I was just happy to be able to hold her hand through it.

It seemed daily that we exchanged blows to harm the others ego. We chipped away at whatever was left after the years we had spent together. She hated me for being weak and I hated her for being damaged. The love that kept us together was replaced by something terrible and ugly. I became what I thought she needed at the time. I challenged her malice with my own. I told myself that she couldn’t help it. I was too pathetic to see the hurt on her face when she hurt me, so I changed. I turned into the person who treated her like shit. I did what I had to do to keep her from feeling badly about herself. I could never hate her as much as she hated herself for the things she had done. It was a sick circle between the two of us. The stress weighed heavily on my heart. In my delusional state I thought this sick act of affection would stand to be a testament as to how much I truly loved her. I would do anything. I would be anything. I just wanted her to be happy.

The end came swiftly and knocked the life out of me. It pained me to wake up. It hurt to take a breath. It took everything I could muster to simply get out of bed. I self-medicated with booze and pills. From my point of view she was fine. She moved onto someone new and we spent months going back and forth trying to forge a friendship of what was left of the wreckage. We spent more time not speaking than we did actually talking. I accused her of so many things that year. The truth is, you can never know what someone else has to endure.


We all get so used to playing victim and focus solely on our own pain that we can’t see that when things end everyone hurts.  We never take a moment to consider what kind of effect our actions had on the other person.


 

One night I received a slap to the face that changed my perspective on relationships. I would wait around for a phone call for weeks at a time. I wanted to hear that she missed me or that she needed me. In her despair I’d find some peace of mind. When it came there was no peace to be found in the aftermath. She was crying and I tried to be calm and talk her down. She told me that she was in her room while her girlfriend was in the living room. She wasn’t happy and she missed me. My heart dropped and I felt the tears form in my eyes. I searched for the words to say, but I found none. I knew that what I wanted to say would hurt her. I wanted to tell her I missed her. I wanted to say that my body and soul ached for her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. Instead I told her that it would be ok. I talked to her until she fell asleep. I cried myself to sleep that night. She wanted things to be this way and I thought that there was no way that this could be hurting her like it was hurting me. Everyone is a victim. Everyone gets hurt when things end. Just because a person can’t show you or share with you how they’re feeling doesn’t mean they feel nothing.

She was my robot. She was the type of girl that put her feelings into a box and buried it in a place that she’d never visit again. You could see the discomfort in her face when discussion began to get serious. She would avoid confrontation at all costs. She was physically unable to deal with anything that was emotionally heavy. Everything in her told her to shut down. And so she did. She hid herself from everyone and became whatever it is that she thought that they wanted. She adopted new ideals, new hobbies, and new interests all in hopes of that it would compensate for what she couldn’t offer emotionally. I told her once that I didn’t want to fix her. I wanted to make her feel safe enough to tear down her own walls. I wanted to support her in becoming stronger. I saw what she was and what she wanted to be. I invested in her potential. It took a very long time for me to realize all the obstacles that stood in her way.


Terrible things happen in our lives and something’s are too substantial to deal with at the time so we wait. Our body and mind goes into defense mode and we shut down until we feel that we’re better equipped to process it all. At a certain point we continue to do this until everything we’ve bottled up threatens to destroy us if we try to bring up again.


She had been hurt so badly and so many times in a short amount of time that I when I found out the extent of it all I was frightened that it would consume her. There were so many explanations when she started to open up. She started to scare me. She became fragile in my eyes. There existed tenderness that only she brought out in me, but with it came naivety. From the moment she let me in I knew that I could never walk away from her. I loved this woman like a little girl. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to shield her from all the ugliness that the world would throw at her. I wished so badly that I would have met her years before. I wished that I could have saved her from these things. I wanted see her put her back together.

Thing would continue to be rocky for us up until I was scheduled to leave. I needed to see her before I wouldn’t be able to for more than a year. I had loved since her and I taught myself not to need her like I did. We planned it out and she came to me. It’s amazing how she could make me so happy. It was mind blowing that in a few minutes she made all the happiness I thought I had felt the year prior with others seem insignificant. I consciously took steps back to just feel fulfilled for a few days. I wanted to be completely overcome by her existence. I wanted to be filled with that hopeless optimism. I wanted to be able to envision a future again. I wanted to feel complete for the brief period that she’d be here with me. And I did. When she told me that she hadn’t been happy since I had left I felt my heart break. There was this knot in my stomach and I didn’t know what to say. I knew she was lying to me. I wanted so badly to believe her that I told myself to do so.  I held her face in my hands and kissed this girl that had decimated me. In retrospect we were both pretending. We both wanted it so badly that we convinced ourselves and each other that it was something we could make work.

I didn’t know that the next time I saw her that it’d be the last time we’d break up. It would be the last time I’d see her until a year a later. I didn’t know that this would be the end of my part in her life. This would be my end scene. This would be a defining moment in our history.

The specifics of this visit are known by both parties and to play them out again is something that pains me far too much to revisit. I realized at this point that I can’t win. She cried. I cried. She took me home. She looks hurt. She doesn’t want to hurt me, and she tried hard to get me to see that I deserve better. She needs to hurt me to get me to leave. I can’t hate her. I look at her after everything that she’s done to me and all I can manage to say is, “Why don’t you love me?” I wonder what I’ve done to deserve this from someone that I’d do anything for. She walks me to the door to get me out of her car. I just stand there and she holds me as I tremble like a child in her arms. I watch her leave and I stand there for a half hour hoping that she’d turn around. She never did. As to torment me I get a text telling me that she might realize that this was the biggest mistake of her life. She might end up back there because she was wrong. I didn’t realize that I would hang onto that line for a year afterwards.

I go away for what seems like an eternity, but I still think about her every day. I write her every chance that I get. This all happens while not hearing from her for months because of her new relationship. I’m never allowed to forget how insignificant our relationship was and how I pale in comparison to this new girl in her life. My hopes and my dreams for what my future was going to be were smashed to bits. She never gave me any reason to hold onto it. She wasn’t a monster. I was just in love with someone and nothing would have made me give up on that. I live in this fantasy for months thinking that one day I’d have the opportunity to show her how much I love her. This would be a testament to my devotion to her.


Slowly I let myself find happiness elsewhere. I stopped believing that being interested in someone else was in some way cheating. I gave myself a chance to be happy, and I was…for a spell.


I get home and it all seems to be going well. I stop trying so hard to hold onto the angel that haunts me. Things start to look up for me. I found new ways to make me happy. I found healthy outlets for my pain and emotional exhaustion. We’re on the same page for a while. The weeks had turned into months and the months turned in a year. I’m proud of how far I’ve managed to come.

With one phone call it all crashes down. Of course I recognize the voice. Your face, your eyes, your mouth, your laugh, your voice…it all haunts my dreams. I start lying again. I lie to make things work. I manipulate situations and feelings…mostly my own. I convince myself that I can exist in her world because I so badly want it. The closer I get the more I feel like I need it again. I talk about other girls when it was always about her. I listen to the sadness at the dissolution of her relationship. I feel selfish for wanting to be with her at all when her voice is filled with such pain. I listen to terrible decisions, but I worry about whether or not to voice it as to not upset her. In a few months I’m back to being special and it makes me feel safe enough to let go of my ex’s because it was suggested that I do. I let go of my safety net to be a better net for her. I didn’t realize that she wouldn’t need me because she had no intention of letting go or falling.

In the end we’re all bound by guilt. She feels guilt in the pain of her past. She feels like these bad things happened because she allowed herself to get too close so she doesn’t anymore. Love was a funny thing and it was shown in ways that would confuse other. This ultimately led to her only feeling important and special when controlled. To her that meant that someone was trying to protect her and that means love where she’s from. She blames herself for things never working out. She thinks that had she done certain things differently that they would have acted differently in return. Her guilt allows her to justify the poor behavior of others. Everything is cheapened by accusations of romantic feelings because who could truly love her without wanting anything in return? She has nothing to offer another person. She’s an emotional sponge. She will soak up all of your love. This isn’t something she can be faulted for. We all want to be treated well and we’ll take it as long as it’s being given to us. Our deficiencies were perfect for each other. She would take and I would give until I had nothing left.


As I packed my things I came across notes and pictures that brought tears to my eyes and made me nostalgic for the madness and passion I had once felt for this woman.


 

As it turns out I was but a small chapter in her life, but she’s became the most significant thing in the story of my life. For years I just wanted to start a new chapter in my life, but I felt like I needed for it to end a certain way. I couldn’t have changed what was going to happen anymore than I could have made her love me. This was always what it was going to come to. This was how things were going to end. It was written before I ever set eyes on her. There are no fond feelings to look back on anymore. We ruined it all. We don’t wish each other well. Not every ending is going to be a happy one and we can’t change that. Sometimes the best thing we can do is just to let it go. I was never meant to be happy with her. I was never going to be the one that changed her. She wasn’t made for me. Maybe I wasn’t made for her either. I’m letting go of the guilt. I’m giving up the struggle. I’m disposing of the hope. This is all of it. Our journey is over and in the end there was no love between us. There was simply her need to be loved and my need to love someone completely and without reason. This is her story put to paper. This is all that’s left and I’m leaving it here.

This is my fancy way of ranting about love, life, politics, girls, and overall debauchery.