It’s been roughly a month since my relationship ended. It’s been a month of avoiding music, romantic comedies and couples as much as I can. Eating and sleeping have been a chore, and putting a smile on my face has been a true struggle. Let’s not forget the crying – the seemingly endless stream of tears were my greatest source of frustration and annoyance. I just wanted it to stop.
So I wrote this a few days in. I was going to keep it all to myself – a diary entry hidden away on some external drive somewhere – but the more I spoke with my friends, the more I saw that everyone (especially women) feels this way at some point. It hurts like a bitch, but I want y’all to know it hurts everyone like a bitch. Here are the thoughts from a freshly broken heart:
For most of my life I heard love songs and thought, that’s some beautiful writing. I never understood the feelings – especially the ones expressed in breakup songs. They seemed exaggerated to an almost silly point. I would sing along but never really got it. When I saw “Dreamgirls,” I admittedly thought Effie’s breakdown was overly dramatic and unrealistic.
I get it now. It’s not dramatic or unrealistic. It’s very very real.
The whole thing is absolutely maddening. The most sane and rational people turn into complete lunatics at the loss of someone they love. You have these moments of complete insanity where you couldn’t give two shits about what it looks like, or what the rules are supposed to be. You have one mission: get them back. You know bringing them back to you is the only way to make the pain stop.
That. Pain. It’s a constant, daily pain. Every morning there’s a brief, usually unnoticeable moment between waking up and the first full inhale where you are in complete bliss. A moment where you feel nothing – like you’re completely normal again. Then your mind comes rushing back, you remember what happened and the pain begins to permeate. It grows from a tiny cloud until it’s covering your entire being. You can, in fact, feel it happening and as it spreads over you, you think, no. Please. Not again. Not another day like this.
As you go about your day, the pain gets better and then worse. It feels like Alice’s teacups are swirling in your intestines. It’s tempered while you’re working. It’s manageable when you’re laughing with friends (because you will laugh). It’s slightly placated by the amazing gestures and kind words you’ll receive from your friends, but the moments alone are the worst. The moments when the giggles end and everyone goes back to their desks. The moments where something great happens or you spot an inside joke and you go to text your ex – momentarily forgetting they are now an ex.
Seeing an inside joke I want to share with him is the absolute worst part of my day.
That and imagining that he’s just fine without me. This may or may not be the case, but you wouldn’t believe how mean your own mind can be. You have these awful thoughts like:
He’s already moved on.
He hates me.
He doesn’t care about losing me.
He’s not even thinking about me.
He never wants to talk to me again.
He’s forgotten me.
He’s already met someone way prettier than me.
Mean, huh? Chances are none of these are actually true, but your mind is still going to force these thoughts on you every few minutes of the day, until you want to throw up. It’s like your own mind has turned on you. It’s retaliating for everything you’re putting it through. While you’re desperately trying to stop these thoughts, and remember why it’s better to move on, your mind also decides to sprinkle in all the best memories you have of them. Every sweet, intimate moment where you thought, wow. This is too good to be true. I freaking love this person, plays over and over, side-by-side with those mean thoughts of them moving on and forgetting you.
Who knew your own mind could be such a bitch?
Everyone keeps telling me this gets better with time. What does that even mean? Does the pain slowly fade away? Do you just learn to live with it? Do you finally snap out of it and stop missing them every moment of the day?
Personally, I don’t have any idea. I’ve watched girlfriends go through this and most of them seem fine today. They sometimes mention their exes with anger, and some of them have reached a point where they know the whole mess was for the best. I’m definitely not there yet.
The fact that I say “yet” is a good sign, though. I want to feel hopeful that this will pass. I want to be able to look back on this with the hindsight and fondness I feel for other past relationships. I want to fast forward past the pain and find that moment where things start to feel normal again.
It’s been a month and I’m getting back to normal. Feeling better is a confusing feeling all on its own. I want it to happen, but once I’m better, it’s all over. This thing I felt so strongly about is done and gone and becomes just another faded memory. How do you let everything go, but keep from feeling like it never happened?
This whole mess has been unexpectedly difficult. I was legitimately surprised at how much it hurt. I’ve had time with family, and time with my friends, but mostly I’ve had time. With time comes perspective and with perspective comes sanity. And if you need anymore help, there’s always Harry Potter analogies.
“You need to stop watching the scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part where Ron leaves Harry and Hermione and pitying yourself. Ron had an excuse to be an ass. He had a HORCRUX around his neck. That boy you were with did not. He is not a Dementor. Your soul is not gone. You are The Girl Who Loved. Sometimes too much, sometimes at the wrong time, and sometimes the wrong person. But you must keep loving. The world outside is enchanting. Stop letting others steal your magic.” —casalena
Harry Potter heals just as much as time.