on your break up


*this is a vintage post, still happily relationshiped…  but I’ve noticed a lot of friends cyber and real have been going though tough breakups during the holidays, that’s just shitty, maybe this will make you feel better*

This is me being nice: 

Sometimes you have to be really honest with yourself. Not all at once. But enough that you can be rational when things get sticky. And by things I mean: it’s dark out side, that song sounds like our love, your birthday, a smell, a road you drive past every few days. Those little things and sometimes bigger things. When you quiver a little. It’s hard always being the tough guy. Sometimes you, I, just want to break down. Pick up the phone and beg for them to take me back.

But I don’t.

I’d defiantly lose all of my cool points if I pulled some shiz like that.

Here’s what I do. I think about the last time that we were actively in love. I think about those last few days. They were bittersweet. He held me, we didn’t say much. It was the end and we knew. We broke down. We cried together. We said good bye. And he said to me that he just wanted me to be happy, and that he wanted me to find someone that deserved me. And whatever I did don’t be with him, you. That might have been the biggest thing that anyone has ever said to me.

And because I’m an asshole I didn’t listen. That worked out well.

Somewhere though the paces of pleasantries and the ruins of a great love he completely stopped talking to me. It’s amazing to be on this end of the stick. Someone really has that much reason to make you disappear from their life. And I can’t blame him (entirely).

I could be the gross girl blowin him up until he changed his number. Which he might have I don’t know. But I don’t. I haven’t. I respected that that’s what he needed and it’s the one thing that I can allow after I threw it all away. I don’t completely buy that he likes the silence but he knows it’s what’s best for him. And because it’s 6 8 years later (and when it was 2,3 and 4 years too) I had the hindsight to stop being the jerk. But it still breaks my heart.

Because I really do still care I send him a message on his birthday every year. Maybe I’ll get to the place in my life when I don’t even realize that day is important anymore. (That has happened now, 2 years in a row, victory? Not really. A sign that I’m in a better place, definitely.) Maybe my messages will detail the good things of my life. Maybe not. It’s probably the worst part of his day. But maybe he likes that I still care and likes having the upper hand so that he doesn’t let on like he heard. And that’s ok. And I’m still presumptuous.

Love is really powerful. Try not to dwell in the pain and find the good. I have to remind myself of that most days. I really think that one day it won’t be hard anymore.


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