The First Three Days... Or, Well, Nevermind.

A. broke  up with me on Wednesday, August 17 via text message.  He decided to get back together with his ex-girlfriend.  Rather than write a blog musing about break ups and lessons learned, I decided to write how I felt the first three days.  In fact, shortly after the text message, I opened my lap top and began writing.  I also wrote on Thursday and Friday.  What you are going to read is raw, un-edited emotion from the first three days of my break up.  Thanks for taking this journey with me, Dear Reader. 
 

Day One
I was broken up with via text message this afternoon.

Wow.  Even writing it doesn't make it sound any better.  Yes, A. broke up with me.  Via text message.

I deleted the message (along with his phone number, pictures, any trace of him from my life) but it said something to this affect:

"I'm sorry, I can't see you anymore, my ex and I got back together.  I don't want to hurt you, you were great to me.  I'm sorry.  Ur a great person."

Wow.

Without even blinking I dialed his number immediately and unleashed anger that I didn't realize existed within me.  I yelled, I cursed, I told him I hoped that she ruins him.  I called him a fake, a coward, a phony.  All he kept saying was that he was sorry and that she called him out of the blue and he didn't know it was going to happen.  I yelled some more then I hung up.  Then I burst into tears. 

Now begins the process that I hate - telling everyone.  What stings about this one is that I brought him into the fold, so to speak.  Everyone liked him and he was very clear with everyone that he liked me.  I don't doubt that he did.  I don't doubt his feelings for me were real.  I think that he wasn't honest with himself - or me - about his feelings for his ex.  Maybe he thought he was over her.  Maybe he thought he was ready to move on.  Either way, he wasn't, and the one who gets the short end of the stick is me.

I can't help but feel disposable.  I feel like it doesn't matter that this relationship was great, or that I'm amazing - it feels like I'm not enough.  Last week I wrote about fear but maybe it wasn't fear, it was instinct.  My good friend M. and I talked about trusting instinct versus being "crazy."  I felt it, I knew it was coming, but I wrote it off as being "crazy."  I blamed it on my insecurity, but the reality is, he was being different.


Day Two
The shock has worn off and the sadness has settled in.  I woke up at four o'clock this morning with that sick feeling settled into my stomach.  Last night I was missing our ten o'clock phone call, I was sick at the thought of him on the phone with his new girlfriend.  This morning when I woke up I had the feeling of sadness permeating me.  I know this feeling doesn't last forever, but right now, it sucks.  I keep wanting him to call me to try and explain and apologize some more.  I'm not going to forgive him or get back together with him, I just want him to grovel. 

Things are starting to be clearer.  The phone calls he didn't answer last Sunday when we were together.  The distance I felt from him all week.  His ambiguous "yeah, I guess, if you want" reply when I asked him if he wanted to hang out.  No phone call on Monday night.  No phone call on Tuesday night.  It all makes sense.  I feel like I'm sweeping up after a tornado.  I'm telling friends what happened and the response is always the same: "he seemed like he was so into you!"  That's what I don't understand yet understand all too well.  I am angry because he was so nonchalant about the whole thing - as if I was some girl  he was just kickin' it with as opposed to a woman that he was building a future with. I get sick when I think of them.

I'm not sure where to go from here, so I'm just going to be still for a little while.


Day Three
Last night I fell down and scraped up my knee pretty badly, then the rain began pouring down as I was trying to get to my car.  When I got in my car I looked at my face.  My make-up was running down my face and blood was running down my leg.  This is what pathetic looks like.  It was like the sky was crying for me.  The rain beat at me from all directions.  I cleaned my face with a paper towel that H. found in M.'s car.  I pressed it against my knee and drove to the bar to meet up with friends and drink beer.  I laughed, made fun of myself, made jokes about lusting after some 21 year old, laughed some more, hugged a lot, had some good beer.  I drove my good friend Ch. home and after I dropped him off, I lost it.  I cried, sobbed, yelled, screamed at the heavens.  I let it fly.  I questioned...God, the Universe, the Energies, whatever.  I said enough, already.  Quit fucking with me.  If there's some lesson to learn, let me learn it already.  I got it out and then I cried some more.

When I woke up this morning I had that sick feeling again (it hasn't gone away at all) but I don't feel so sad and hopeless.  This is going to be a hard weekend.  We didn't see each other during the week, so weekends were our time... and he'll be with his girlfriend only she isn't me and I just have to swallow it.  M. and H. brought up a good point- this wasn't an easy decision for him to make, and maybe that's why he sent the text, because he didn't know how to do it.  Maybe.  That's the thought that makes me the saddest - thinking about him thinking about me.  He has to be - he couldn't have just shut me out just like that.  If he could, then it's probably a good thing that he broke up with me.  He dumped me.  There was no discussion, he just dumped me.  I don't beg or plead, nor would I have ever tried to change his mind.  It was finished. 

I'm waiting for the anger.  The anger helps - it makes me productive and strong.  Anger propels me forward.  Anger makes me feel better.  Right now, sadness and sickness in the pit of my stomach consume me and keep me stuck.  I'm ready for the next phase.  I hate the way I jump every time my phone rings or a text message comes through. I hate wondering if he's thinking about me.  I hate wishing and hoping that he'll come back crawling so that I can reject him.  I hate this feeling.

Eventually, I won't jump when the phone rings, I won't think about him with his girlfriend, I won't wonder if he's thinking about me.  Eventually, this sick feeling will go away.  Eventually, I'll feel better and at some point, I'll believe again.


Next Time: Back to the Bay!