It's been hard to write these past weeks. I've had tough days. I think I kept dragging my emotions because I felt guilty. I kept asking the what if? ...trying to find a solution and trying to justify everything that had happened. I've finally accepted that I didn't lose my boyfriend: HE LOST ME. I've been feeling like shit without even realizing that when a person is so willing to let go of you it's because there is no love left, and that's okay. Actually, it's not okay, but there's really nothing I can do. How do I feel now? I don't want to waste my time investing all of myself into a relationship. Yes, I know not all men are the same, but I'm tired, and I need time to myself.
I've noticed that since my break up, I've connected with old friends, I've gotten closer to my current friends, and most importantly, I've become a better mom. A good friend told me: "Just go all out being you." And that's exactly what I plan on doing.
So, what are my plans? I'm cleaning more, reading more, enjoying music more, talking to friends more, exercising more, cuddling with my daughter more, eating healthy food more, doing my make up more... I'm just doing more of everything because I deserve to enjoy my life MORE.
Not that I wasn't enjoying life while in my relationship, but the thing about not properly healing after a break up and getting into a new relationship is that you
Which phase are you in when you feel numb? What is happening when you get fixes from casual relationships and acquaintances? What is happening when you're supposed to be crushed but you just don't care anymore? Am I done? Is this what it feels like when pain has overflown and everything has been spilled?
Today, April 27, 2016.
This has been part of my thought process for the past month. I thought about discarding it, but it's my heart, and it deserves to be heard. Since then, I've been making some changes and improvements in my life, but I'll keep the details for another post.
"How to succeed in heartbreak without really trying.
First, do nothing.
Become one with your couch eating whole stacks of Oreos like leaning towers of feelings.
Watch Jane Austen’s adaptations until your eyes become raisins.
Relish in Colin Firth emerging from the lake in a white shirt.
If you must do something, drink, but keep it classy.
Put your cheap wine in a glass, you aren’t a pirate.
Talk to yourself.
Talk to yourself in the mirror, on public transportation, in the middle of the fountain at the mall.
Because there are things you never got to say and you don’t have to swallow them.
Join Tinder, make your profile picture a model and talk to no one.
Just keep swiping until you got carpal tunnel, that way you can reject 50 people a minute and it feels like killing ants with abs.
Kiss as many people as you need to get the stamp of his lips off of your brain.
Go to museums, realize other things have history too.
Play hide and go seek with your REM cycle.
We’re are not sure which worse to wake up from: the nightmares about your sides are splitting open
or the dreams about him holding your jaw like it meant something to him.
You might as well tape your eyelids to your forehead because at least you could lie to yourself while you’re awake.
Stay up until 3, 3:30, 4. Brew tea with the bags under your eyes.
Write. Write until you lose every metaphor in your library you start using the same one over and over, because there’s only so many ways to describe being destroyed.
But once you get there, that’s just the foundation.
Next, gather up all of the chinks in your chain, fasten them together.
Make chainmail and write that bitch into battle.
Take his name, the one that’s still hurts to say and use it as a war cry. Then actually cry, because there is nothing shameful about clearing your eyes.
Do not pick yourself up.
Do not be okay, because heartbreak is not being okay, it’s about remembering you were okay before.
It’s about saying “Fuck okay!”.
It’s about taking all of your broken pieces and building yourself a castle, because I don’t care who you are.
You’re a goddamn queen.
It’s about saying “Fuck this poem!”.
No one succeeds at heartbreak.
I built myself a throne room out of pizza boxes and empty lunch bowls.
And I can’t stop crying into my Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.
But one day I cry myself a fountain of youth.
Let’s go back to beginning.
I’m tired of self-help tips and friendly pick me ups.
I drink a bottles, bottles and bottles, pretending their mouths belong to someone else.
But I’m done feeling sorry for myself, because why apologize for loving until you burst?
My capacity to feel needs no pardon.
My heart needs no mending.
I am not broken.
I’m just a little more…explosive!"
I guess I'm back at anger... Not because you broke up with me, but because of how you're handling things. Because of how willingly you have let go of everything that we stood for. And I've waited an entire week to start writing, because it was pretty bad. Should I hold back for you? No. But I'm trying to grow, and part of the growing means that I take time to digest my feelings, and deal with them on my own without exploding. So in reality, I'm holding back for myself. I'm holding back because dragging an unsolvable situation will do nothing. I'm holding back because anger doesn't harm you, but it does harm me. And so I've decided to make this path a tad more private. Unfortunately I'm at the point where I'm starting to be less public about my feelings because it doesn't hurt as much so I'm thinking logically.
(The above passage took me about a week to write.)
And so I thought long and hard until today... I questioned whether to post this or not... whether to scratch it or not... whether to give up or not. But after today it's clearer. Thank you, Mark, for breaking my heart. Thank you, Mark, for being everything you said you weren't.. THANK YOU, MARK, because after today, I am positive that you are no longer my person, and that you never really were. After today, I move on...
I guess it’s because most of my goodbyes are really “See you
later!” I don’t know… Yesterday I did some thinking. I figured I needed to get into what I
normally do… date. Date because rebounds
are what get me through heart break, or so I thought. But this time it’s different. The fact of the matter is that I can’t even
think about being with anyone who isn’t him.
It makes me sick. I know he said
not to wait for him, but I’m not waiting on him, I’m waiting on my heart to
heal. If anything I need dates with my
best friends… those are the ones that really dig deep and are willing to lay
you on an operating table and work with, and on you, little by little, putting
the pieces back together. They
understand that it’s difficult to do it on your own, so they’re willing to help
with their expertise. Because they’ve
been where I’ve been. Because they know me
better than my ex. Because they love me
more than he did. It’s ok to let them
in. It’s ok not to be ok. Even in the distance, they got you. I wish you knew how many people reached out
to me, and told me… I’ve been there: I
know what you’re feeling: It’ll get
better. Friends who have sent me
messages, videos, suggestions of books to read… friends who have read me and have
felt the pain that I feel. And I'm so grateful... so ridiculously grateful for the angels I know God has sent me, but I'm still saying goodbye, so it still hurts.
The thing is, when you're saying goodbye to the love of your life, it's not necessarily going to be an exact science. Yeah, you assume that after that last conversation you're done. You're not going to write to that person anymore... oh, but you're so wrong. The urge is unbearable. So you meet him again because there are still some of his stuff at your place... And he calls before he arrives: "I'm on my way." And you tell yourself you're okay, but your stomach is churning... all of a sudden you feel extremely sick, you start sweating, you start shaking... you're going to see him for the first time after you broke up. Should I just stay in? Should I not talk to him? What do I do? And everything goes exactly how you didn't expect it to go. He's calm and serene, and his tranquility overcomes all of your nervousness. And you both hug, and you admit that you miss each other, and furthermore, that you still love each other. And it's the first time he's said it since you broke up. And when you hug him, it's so hard to breathe... it's hard to breathe because you don't want to cry, and because it's the first time there's been a break from the horrible nightmare you've been living in for the past week. And you smell him and it hurts so much because it smells like home... And you're crumbling inside but there's a moment of hope. You talk like you used to talk when you were together... You joke around and make fun of each other. You joke about the situation, and for a second you think everything is going to be alright. You truly believe that no matter what happens, whether you get back together or not, everything will be fine. So you say goodbye but there's a hint of hope in that goodbye...
But then it's tomorrow... and tomorrow you keep pretending that everything will be alright, and you're met with the reality... Nothing will ever be the same. And you go back and forth between anger, denial, depression, and you're trying to negotiate your way back to him, but there's no going back... So here you are... writing.
And you're writing because you're exhausted. You're writing because you're frustrated. You're writing because you want to move on, but you're writing because the thought of it makes you feel guilty. You're writing because he told you not to wait for him. You're writing because you're no longer the woman he wants to marry... and it's killing you... and instead of self-harming with alcohol, casual hookups, and maybe even illegal drugs, you're trying to face your emotions head on.
And I'm tired... I'm so, so tired of feeling so much. But the thing is, you will still be saying goodbye as long as you love him and there's nothing you can really do about that...
Closure, is it really necessary? That's what I thought.
In my desperation to feel better already and not have to wake up every morning with that sense of grief, I went online and looked up: How to get over a breakup. What I ended up finding was that basically I had made all the mistakes in the book. I was needy, public about my emotions, I kept contacting him... just everything was a mess. So anyways, last night we had a conversation, and it was pretty much what you would call a goodbye. What I'm doing with this post is sharing what my goodbye looks like.
Love comes in all different, shapes and colors; ours was one of the best.
He's not ashamed of saying that he doesn't like Puerto Rican food.
He loves Mexican candy.
He was proud of my accomplishments.
His feet smell.
He loved the mysteries of the Universe.
The reason why he went into Economics.
He helped Luna with her Math.
He helped Luna with her youtube channel.
He believed dreams were messages to be taken seriously.
The day after we met he deleted tinder because he had found me.
The fact that he disliked most of the shows that I liked.
It Follows. - The one thing we agree on 100%
He got me a couch.
He showed me new places.
He was my first New Year's Eve kiss.
He uses way too much garlic in his cooking.
He got me into wine.
He always wanted me to have fun.
I loved his podcast.
He hated anything that had to do with celebrity gossip.
He slept next to me even though my snoring kept him up.
Not cooking for you sucks.
Not rearranging what you put in the wrong place sucks.
Not coming home to you sucks.
Not waking up next to you fucking sucks.
Not hearing you say you love me sucks.
Not being able to tell you about my day sucks.
Not planning for Puerto Rico with you sucks.
Not playing around with you sucks.
Not touching you sucks.
Not calling you my boyfriend sucks.
Not being a family anymore breaks my heart...
There is obviously more than just 100 reasons why I love you... Even though it still breaks my heart, I understand that if I found this once, I can find it again in another person.
