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I thought when my relationship ended, so would my writer’s
block. Well it never really was writer’s block, just more respect for the
individual I was sharing my days with for awhile. But it seems to have just
gotten worse. Maybe it’s because it’s not really over for me yet. (Yes I know.
I’m stupid, crazy, deluded, enter similar adjective here.) Maybe I just need
time to decompress. Whatever it may be I’m going to force a post in hopes of
restarting the rusty word processor.
So let’s see topic. Breakups. Yes. Let’s talk about
breakups. But in a very disconnected way that is not reflective of my personal
life whatsoever, because I haven’t even really spoken to you in 18 months,
guys. Stop trying to pry. Geeze.
Some people handle breakups with such grace and peace.
“You’ve enriched my life, thank you for being a part of it during this time. We
must part now, go forth and be happy.” Others down whiskey until they can’t
feel feelings. Others bounce to the next as though the love from the previous
is completely transferrable like a store exchange. This one wasn’t the right
fit; let’s try the medium.
Even within each of my own breakups the approach has
changed. I’ve had the breakdowns, I’ve had the amicable parting, I’ve left for
someone else, I’ve slammed the door shut and I’ve pined for a reconciliation. So
all these
articles
and books
about
how to survive a breakup seem ridiculous.
You get half the length of the relationship to move on. Nope
just two weeks for every month.
Don’t watch romcoms, but allow yourself to mourn.
Don’t ever speak to him again. Well what if you have a child
together?
Don’t jump into a relationship too soon. What about those
fabled people who go on a date a week after the breakup and end up marrying the
person?
Know it’s better to be single than with someone who isn’t
right for you. Yeah, ok but who said anything about being sad because you’re
single. Maybe you’re sad because you love the jerk and you can’t just turn it
off.
There’s nothing worse when going through a breakup than
overused platitudes and plenty of fish speeches. Especially considering that
most breakups past high school and even college are nowhere near simplistic.
Lives become more intertwined (mostly due to my inability to set up
appropriate, healthy boundaries). Baggage from each relationship compounds to
mismatched sets that never really make sense no matter how much you analyze
your relationship patterns.
So as long as I’m functioning in the world and not breaking
down completely, can’t I just handle being torn from someone the way I want? If
I want to create an epic breakup playlist and listen to it on repeat for months
after the fact, give me that. If I want to binge on Gilmore Girls and cry every
time Jess wrongs Rory, it’s my choice. If I want to continue conversations the
guy who wronged me, please be patient.
I will say my friends have been phenomenally understanding
as I walk through this season. So none of this could be directed at them. Most
of the worn-out “forget that jerk, buck up and get yourself out there” talk has
come from unsolicited, acquaintance-level sources.
I wish I was better at putting it all behind me. Dispelling
the hope and dismissing the ghost. But I’m not. Especially in these uncharted
breakup circumstances. And I have no idea what I’m doing aside from taking it
one day at a time like a love-struck alcoholic who manages to go about her
regular life with an ambiguous hole where a boy used to fit so nicely.
(Ed note: I apologize for this awkward reintroduction. I
promise these will get better as I stretch my muscles and sort out my life a
bit more.)
So how are you planning on telling your next boyfriend that you have warts on your vagina?
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