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Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess? I just envisioned us being married with two kids, a couple of grand babies, and a twenty-year marriage under our belt before we did splitsville. But therein lies the issue. I say all that and he can't see past the next few days in front of him.
Despite this break-up lasting nearly a month, the bandage was officially ripped off just over a week ago. I sobbed a bit, picked myself up by my bootstraps, and planted my ass on the chair in front of my computer and started my search for a job in Seattle.
Now it's been a week, and I'm continuing to go through the range of emotions... early on grrrlpower to "I'm too awesome for this bullshit" to melancholy to outright sadness and ugly sobbing mostly now. Lots of ugly sobbing. Gut wrenching, whole-body shaking, uncontrollable sobbing where I can't catch my breath. Shower crying. Morning crying. Nighttime crying. Private tears. Public tears. FUCK IT ALL TEARS.
To add to the shitstorm that is my life, I also got written up and put on 30-day probation at work two days ago. And was sent home because I couldn't get it together. So I've spent the better part of the past three days sobbing uncontrollably. Smelling his clothes. Touching his things that will soon be whisked out of the apartment. Half wanting to be in Seattle. Mostly wanting all this to be some terrible dream. For him to come through the doors and say it was a terrible mistake and he can't be without me.
Because that's how I feel. Like in the beginning of this break-up I thought I'd be better off without him....but that was because I didn't believe we'd actually break up. I thought that we'd have a come-to-Jesus moment and we'd fix things. Because that's what a relationship is....continuing to show up to the table and saying, "I know something's wrong and I'm here to work it out because I love you, so let's work on this." Over and over again.
We've been off/on for 3 years now, and we made it a year and a half this time. This last time. Knowing everything was the last time stabs me in the gut....the last time we hugged, the last time we kissed, the last time we were intimate, I'm grieving for every last everything...every item of him that won't be in this house any more...every piece of my day that was lifted by his presence. That looked forward to his big feet at the bottom of the bed. To him reaching tall things for me. To us teasing each other. TO our mutual love for music and urban designer toys. To his naked butt walking out of the shower into the bedroom as I watched TV. To him falling asleep next to me. To him kissing me and saying, "I love you" every morning before work. Every. Morning.
Yeah, we had issues. The biggest one being what I thought was a movable mountain, but he disagreed and the mountain will not be moved. It's hard for me to admit that I always saw our future. I have wedding dresses cut out and hidden in my drawers. I had started wondering how he'd ask me to marry him. I wanted a grand profession of love, even if I knew that wasn't his way. I wanted him to suddenly understand what I meant to him, to feel it in his bones so much he couldn't contain it, and to get down on one knee and look me in the eyes and say he wanted to stand by me forever. To then profess it in front of friends and family. Or at least have a party with all of them. I just wanted a small wedding overlooking the dunes, just family, just him and me. Being madly in love and staring into each others' eyes, thinking about the adventures we'd have in the coming years. Overwhelmingly madly in love.
And he never thought about it. And when he did think about it, it was his future, and I wasn't necessarily in it.
Of all the memories of our time together, it only got really bad the past month. I was unhappy that I felt he never appreciated me. Maybe I never showed that I appreciated him. His quirks. Even the ones I thought were annoying. But I accepted them. And none of it was that bad. We could work through all of them. But not the mountain. I guess. The mountain remains unmoved.
And I fucking blame romcoms, Disney, and all the terrible movies that show a couple where one of them has a lightbulb moment and there's swirling love and fucking butterflies and all that shit. Because that doesn't happen. Not to me.
I've put together a history with videos, because fuck it. Words are hard sometimes, especially right now. Moving pictures and music just feel appropriate right now.
3/20/13
04/01/13
4/22/13
6/11/13
10/20/13
5/5/14
10/25/14
10/26/14
10/27/14
10/28/14
10/29/14
10/30/14
11/1/14
I can say this for sure. I became a better person with him in my life. I became a better partner than I've ever been. I was not perfect, and I was still critical when I could have been more supportive. I'm still learning how to un-do all the fucked up stuff I saw as "partnership" from my parents' relationships. And I'll love him forever and ever, but in the end, you can't make someone feel something they don't want to feel.
And I'll be alright.
I'll be fine.
I've always landed on my feet.
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