This is a blog post that has been rolling around in my head for some time. It’ll be a little stream-of-consciousness-y, because I’m not entirely sure I know what I want to say, but I know I need to get it out.
I’ve talked about my breakup before, particularly in my last blog post, “Loss.” To quote what I said there,
My boyfriend broke up with me as my depression was reaching a boiling point…
I don’t think he stopped loving me before he broke up with me – he broke up with me because he couldn’t deal with my depression anymore. He told me he still loved me. But that didn’t stop him from breaking up with me. And that hurt – a lot. Losing my boyfriend was a loss that took me about two years to get over, most likely because my depression didn’t let me mourn the relationship properly, it kept bringing it up. Regardless, I suddenly had lost a pillar of love and light and support, and in its place was nothing.
That really messed me up. I’ve written about it a little bit in my posts ondepression itself, but I was utterly and completely heartbroken. It’s what triggered my first trip to the hospital, I stopped eating for 2-3 days, I wouldn’t stop crying. And I just didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what to do about it. I don’t hurt as much anymore, and I’m not in love with him, but I still miss him. I miss being in a relationship, and I miss being in love. There’s a hole in my heart where love used to be, and maybe will be again, but for now it’s just empty.
That’s the quickest, easiest summary I can give. But more important to this post is that he was my first love. It sounds romantic when I say it like that, and in the movies and the romance novels, if there is a first love then the girl always ends up with him. It’s “Meant To Be.” But that’s not how it works in real life.
Heartbreak is probably the second most painful thing I have experienced in my entire life. I still don’t know how to describe it; and even though I am over the relationship, I still cry when I think about the breakup itself.
I think part of why I still cry, and part of why it hurt so much, was that I had such a naive concept of love. I knew people didn’t always marry the first person they fell in love with. I knew people who were divorced. I knew people who had fallen in and out of love. But to me, I thought that this was it. I wasn’t planning our wedding or anything like that, but I had been able to picture myself with him for the rest of my life, and I thought, once I reached that point, that he was The One.
Now, I’m not sure there is such a thing as “The One.” But like I said, I was naive. It still felt weird to me to think that my parents may have loved someone else before each other, I think I still believed that, while they had dated other people, they hadn’t fallen in love until they met each other. I was a romantic. I believed that true loved happened, and I didn’t understand how people fell out of love. I mean, I knew it happened, but I just didn’t understand it.
Even now I’m not sure I understand it. Falling out of love is a weird process. These are all things that are true:
- I am not in love with my ex
- I do not want to get back together again
- Part of me will never stop loving my ex
- I miss him
- I miss our relationship
I think some of this might get easier when I fall in love again, when I start dating other people (though who would want to date me? Though that’s a whole other issue). But it took a long time for me to fall out of love. Two years I mourned that relationship, and wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Even now, there’s a tiny part of me that thinks we can make it work, we can get back together. But the majority of me doesn’t want to get back together with him, and also fears that he would leave me again when things got tough, even if I did want to get back together.
It’s confusing. That’s all I can really say about it. My emotions are confusing. I think about our relationship and breakup a lot. Sometimes I cry still. Sometimes I roll my eyes. We’re friends now, like, we actually hang out and do things together and we’re mostly cool. (Though I will admit to jealousy. He’s a very naturally affectionate person, so when he’s affectionate with our mutual friends and not me I get jealous. Because he can never act in that easy way with me again. And I know I will get jealous when he starts dating someone else. It might crush me again when he starts dating someone else, even though I don’t want to be with him anymore. Like I said, confusing.) But overall, this is just a fact of life.
People get their hearts broken. I am now among them. The scars are deep, and visible, but the wounds have healed. They say you know you’re in love when all the pop songs start making sense. Well, it’s true for breakups too. That’s when the other half of the songs start making sense. It’s a mostly universal experience, but that doesn’t make it less lonely when it happens.
Someday, this will be far in my past. My heart won’t hurt so much, and that little part of me that still loves him will be just that – a little, ignore-able part in the grand scheme of things. But the hurt is still fresh enough that that part is a little too big right now. BUt I’ll get over it. I survived falling in love, I’ll survive falling out of it.
I always do.