About dealing with a special kind of heartbreak

If I’m being completely honest, I’d have to say one of the reasons I’m even on this website today, struggling to make my blog look like something people want to look at and maybe even read, is my last relationship coming to an end in a disastrous way. I’ve fallen into that cliché of wanting to try new things after a breakup, and apparently in my case one of these new things is deluding myself into thinking I’m interesting enough to impart wisdom and tell unimpressed strangers on the internet about the endless list of wildly boring events that constitute my life. And writing long, really long sentences.

Anyhow.

Since this breakup is the reason I’m inflicting this sorry excuse for an online diary on your poor souls, I thought I might as well tell you more about it.

It was the kind of twist of fate that you never expect is going to happen to you. My relationship was a very loving one. Yes we had a particularly difficult set of circumstances to face, but I loved him deeply and I honestly had every reason to believe he loved me too. Overall, we were happy. At least I was. And then one day he decided it was over. A couple of hours before, he was giving me his word that he would never ever give up on us. And then, In a matter of hours, for no reason I’m aware of, he changed his mind. You know how men get booed when they break up via text or on the phone ? Well, bless him, to his credit, he did not do that at all (sarcasm). He did not break up at all. He just made sure I wasn’t able to reach him anymore. He gave me a 15-second phone call (sadly this is not an exaggeration meant for dramatic effect, I have visual proof on my phone) during which he muttered something like “I can’t” before hanging up on my distraught and understandably confused self, never to be heard from again. This was a little over two months ago, a few days after my birthday.

In this inaugural article, as I’m walking my very first steps into the world of blogging, I would like to talk about my current state. How I’m doing now. The place I am in as I start to write down my thoughts for the world (or, in my case, the poor soul that accidentally stumbles its way towards my blog one typo at a time) to see. Maybe one day I will elaborate more on how I dealt with that pain in the immediate aftermath. All you should know now is that it was possibly the hardest time I have ever had to go through. The cold-hearted cruelty with which I (felt I) was treated and the deep humiliation that ensued, more than the separation itself, have caused damage I have yet to completely recover from. I think a part of me never will.

Fast forward to today.

I have developed what I call the « blind-eye reflex » when it comes to the story of how it all came to an end. It could almost look like denial, only denial usually precedes a phase of realization, while in my case, I have already been through that (difficult but necessary) phase. I’m not holding onto anything anymore. It is over. But since I know there will be no fathoming this story (because of how utterly inexplicable it remains), all I can really do is forget about it and, when remembering it, only do so superficially. I only think of the « surface », the frame, and never allow myself to dive into the details. I guess that’s the only way to overcome – for lack of a better word – an end with no closure.

Because there was never an explanation, there is no room for rationality.

And no room for rationality means no room for the serenity that comes with understanding why.

In that regard, it’s a bit like dealing with death. Only I could be tempted to say that at least death is seldom a choice, and its unpreventable nature brings its own kind of serenity once one has overcome the first stages of grief.

The rare times I have thoroughly reflected upon the breakup, I am overwhelmed by a mix of fear, anger, pain as well as inexplicable waves of guilt and inadequacy.

Back when the wound was still fresh, my father had told me that there would come a point, eventually, where the pain, without ever disappearing entirely, would vanish and, in a way, detach itself from me. He said it would no longer feel like a pain I was experiencing, but rather a pain I was empathizing with. As if it had fallen down a few steps on my emotional ladder. Like the pain I might feel for a beloved character in a favorite book of mine. Not only does it not feel like my own pain anymore, it also stops feeling entirely real.

I guess I have reached that point, and much sooner than I thought.

So, to anyone who’s going through any kind of emotional pain, all I can say is surround yourself with people you love (I was nothing short of shocked by the number of people who turned up and stood by me through that time), and keep being, keep living, keep breathing, put one foot in front of the other, take it one step at a time. As for the way you should cope, there is no secret formula. So don’t listen to people’s advice. You know, the ones telling you to move on and forget about it already. If you want to hold onto memories or hope for a while, you should. There’s nothing weak or childish about that. Hopefulness (not to be confused with blatant optimism) is one of my favorite qualities in people.

Whatever works.

And now I’m slowly but surely getting back on my feet. Sure enough they still tremble and totter a bit every now and again, but I’m told it’s okay, so I’ll just keep walking and hope for the best. As for my ex-boyfriend, I do not hate or resent him, I have made my peace with the fact that I might never understand what happened. We all have our reasons and sometimes people make mistakes. I wish him well, I guess…

I am genuinely excited about this blog, even if it turns out I’ll be the only one reading it.

Right now (well not right now because right now I have to study for exams or I am in serious trouble), but first thing next semester, I’m taking up a lot of things I’ve always wanted to do. And blogging about them.

And, you know, I’ll be happy or something.