Tip for the day: Don't wear eye makeup for the first few days following a breakup. It helps if you happen to be on leave from work and therefore, don't need to look and behave your best.
Despite the fact that I'm still hurting, feeling the sadness and the anger at things not working out, I'm feeling more and more certain that things will be fine and that there's no looking back.
For today, I'm experiencing the anger stage of grief. Anger at the fact that he wasn't the right person, anger at the fact that he wasn't the person I thought he was (hence all the fights that went something like "Why can't you do/say/think this, this and this?"), anger at the fact that I wasn't the right person for him (Hello, I'm like the most awesome person in the universe, how can I not be the sun, moon and stars to you? I didn't actually say that - but that's the kind of indignation that has been flaring up off and on today.)
It helps a lot to have friends or family around to listen to you rant, offer words of support, and distract you from your troubles.
Some hot chocolate lava cake helps, too.
When I'd finished cake and drinks with Gina, I'd only used half the small stack of napkins the waiter had so kindly left at our table when they brought the cakes - I was already teary shortly after we sat down. And by the time we were heading back to the car, it actually felt good to be 'back', with my ever faithful bestie assuring me that an ex-schoolmate was definitely chatting me up at the reunion last weekend when he kept asking me to tell him about this award I'd won but nobody outside my field of work (i.e. nobody around me that evening) gives a crap about.
It also helps that even the friends who are too busy to come spend the afternoon watching u cry keep your itchy texting thumbs busy - which also means his face (which still has that loving look that you'll never see from him again) no longer stares at you from the top of your Whatsapp chat list.
Here's to more adventures as a single woman.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The Realisation and the Pain
So here I am, another walking cliche. Another one in the many, another data point in the statistics.
Just another girl, experiencing the almost inevitable loss of her first love.
Why the heck am I writing about this? (More as a reminder to myself as I continue writing.)
Well, people write songs (and make loads of money while they're at it) to get over breakups.
I had a colleague who told me she repainterd her room for each major breakup she ever had. The walls of her room has, thus, changed colour 3 times.
This is the first time I'm going through one that was actually worth any pain and I'm still looking for my thing, which I hope I won't have to do too many times. So for now, I write. In hopes that I feel better, perhaps make someone else feel better, or at least entertained, in the process, too.
So as I work out the feelings, I'm gonna throw out a crap load of breakup cliches. So get ready.
Firstly, it seems like this breakup has been coming for awhile now. It's just taken me a long time to realise it, and a little while after that to accept it. I'd tell you that it's for the best and that time will heal this pain and all that crap. But the truth is, I just feel despair. How does one not despair when the man that was once a boy, who had been the object of my high school daydreams, my partner in our youthful mischief and then all the growing up that we've done in most of the past decade, my lover and friend, simply isn't in love with me anymore and vice versa? How does one not despair when you know you're looking into the eyes of someone you thought you would wake up next to every day for the rest of your life, and realise that it's not going to happen?
And here's one last emo video that a close friend shared with me, and I, thankfully saw before I had that conversation. Can't say it fixed anything. And made it even more painful to think that the most important person in my life for such a long time would someday be a casual acquaintance. But there's some strange comfort in knowing that this is, to a certain extent, normal.
Just another girl, experiencing the almost inevitable loss of her first love.
Why the heck am I writing about this? (More as a reminder to myself as I continue writing.)
Well, people write songs (and make loads of money while they're at it) to get over breakups.
I had a colleague who told me she repainterd her room for each major breakup she ever had. The walls of her room has, thus, changed colour 3 times.
This is the first time I'm going through one that was actually worth any pain and I'm still looking for my thing, which I hope I won't have to do too many times. So for now, I write. In hopes that I feel better, perhaps make someone else feel better, or at least entertained, in the process, too.
So as I work out the feelings, I'm gonna throw out a crap load of breakup cliches. So get ready.
Firstly, it seems like this breakup has been coming for awhile now. It's just taken me a long time to realise it, and a little while after that to accept it. I'd tell you that it's for the best and that time will heal this pain and all that crap. But the truth is, I just feel despair. How does one not despair when the man that was once a boy, who had been the object of my high school daydreams, my partner in our youthful mischief and then all the growing up that we've done in most of the past decade, my lover and friend, simply isn't in love with me anymore and vice versa? How does one not despair when you know you're looking into the eyes of someone you thought you would wake up next to every day for the rest of your life, and realise that it's not going to happen?
Let's get a little more out-there here and say this song is being played A LOT on local radio in the weeks leading up to this breakup, and it's been hard not to cry every time I heard it. Call it a sign, call it whatever you want - it just felt like I was constantly being reminded that things were ending, and it would be inevitable.
And here's one last emo video that a close friend shared with me, and I, thankfully saw before I had that conversation. Can't say it fixed anything. And made it even more painful to think that the most important person in my life for such a long time would someday be a casual acquaintance. But there's some strange comfort in knowing that this is, to a certain extent, normal.
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