**sniffs** **sniffs** **sniffs**
I can’t write this in a way that doesn’t sound cute. The story of a poor brokenhearted girl who loses someone that meant everything plus the world to her.
If only it were that simple. For as much as I prepared myself for this day; you’re never fully prepared to lose yourself.
You lose sleep.
From the night that I drove from Jon’s apartment, waking up at 3 am (the witching hour) and up at 5am to get a miserable summer’s day started; is norm. 2-3 hours of straight sleep is a godsend. Even on weekends and holidays: I watched the sunrise from my bed.
You lose your appetite.
I’m pretty sure that night I was able to stomache a glass of wine, but the next morning and days ahead, I carried a water bottle around as that was all I could handle. In the mornings, I could have toasted bread, and maybe in the evenings a handful of nuts or crackers. Yogurt, milk or anything too rich or heavy was too much. I probably didn’t grocery shop for about a month.
You lose a sense of purpose.
I don’t know if it made it better or worse, but I had some time off when Jon and I broke it off. Maybe worse, because at least at work I would have something to do and keep my mind off of it. But at home, I didn’t see the point of going through another day. I had some events and stuff with friends but the days and hours between them were menacingly slow. And all I could think about was the hurt.
It’s a weird pain, it doesn’t burn like being cut open, and it isn’t sharp like the feel of freshly broken flesh. It’s a dull ache that sits in the pit of your gut, and it’s very heavy; so it holds you down and you’re unable to move quickly enough from the dark thoughts that haunt you around every corner.
And its at this point when you know you’re at your wits end because now what have affected you psychologically is also affecting you physically (or vice versa) and it has consumed you whole and left you falling down a dark bottomless pit.
You lose your mind.
The truth is that your mind was probably already lost from the beginning. However, mindless, you don’t realize it until your thoughts and actions are centered on him/her. You can’t think or do anything without the person pulling at your strings. When you lose your mind you lose yourself.
I was no longer thinking about myself, I was thinking about Jon around the clock, and I knew (from what I read) this was normal at first. I replayed the phone conversation over and over; and like a recovering alcoholic; suddenly blacked out pieces were starting to form in my mind that I may not have heard or put much weight on at the time.
Wait a minute? Did he really say, “I don’t wanna stop hanging out, I just need more–”
“Hey, Lance…I was seeing this guy and this is how it went down…” I explained, “He looked so solemn when I went to his apt. his voice sounded ok, but his face was serious and calm. I’ve never seen him like before.
“Did I do the right thing?”
I still don’t have that answer. My girlfriend said, “Yes, he wanted to still hang out for the sex.” And my guy friend said, “He probably doesn’t know how to express himself. He’s barely 25, and has the emotional state of a 17 year old.”
So now completely besides myself in guilt and angst I remember that his moving date was coming up, and that I would call a few days after he had settled to see how he was and hopefully that would signal we could be on friendly terms. It didn’t fully dawn on me that Jon would be mad or upset over breaking things off. Why would he be angry? He didn’t want to be with me? It really was his choice or ultimatum, I never asked him to choose to see me exclusively.
What if he doesn’t want to talk to me ever again? Some people do hold grudges, especially if they perceived themselves as being wronged. Did I wrong him or did he wrong me? As a functioning zombie going through lots of talk therapy with friends, I realized how we both failed at communication and meeting each others’ expectations. Not to mention our insecurities getting in the way.
So, after hurling my first decent meal I picked up the phone and called him. I left a message. And eventually went to sleep.
By midday the next day, I realized that I needed closure, and thought that even if Jon was upset or wanted nothing to do with me; I had to be ok with that. Was he trying to send a message that I wasn’t worth speaking to, even though I just wanted to see if everything was ok, still be on friendly terms? I guess the transition to friendship was too unrealistic. So I sent what I thought would be my last (and most regrettable) text:
Hey Jon, I guess by ignoring me, you wanted me to feel low? Point taken. I was reaching out to the friend I thought I had in you. I didn’t think that when you broke up with me that we caste each other out of our lives.
And that was it. I went for a walk, chatted with friends, made plans. I had a cooking demo at my house (one of the last plans I made to do with Jon) that night, and went to bed feeling like it was over, finally over.
And as I closed my eyes, I imagined myself getting into the relationship mobile Jon, and gunning down the highway into the Rabbithole to an unfamiliar place. The steep curves and hills, are little more pronounced and the warning signs are now clearer. As a passenger in this vehicle, I may have anticipated that the straight and narrow road we were on may have been deceiving; after all I was probably more prepared than he was to break things off, rather than stay and make it work.
Did he really not see it coming?
Ch 14. The Long Road Ahead
Now I’m guilty. Was it really my fault? Should I have been more affectionate, was I less concerned about his feelings? Maybe something I did selfishly? But he didn’t give me a chance. The guy is impatient and makes rash decisions. I wanted a chance to grow, know him better, and to make him happy. Maybe there is still a chance to grow and know each other better, but perhaps as friends.