"And it stings when it's nobody's fault cause' there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name. It's only the air you took and the breath you left."
I am hesitant to write what I think I need to write about so I have been avoiding my precious blog. However, this blog is bullshit if it's not real so here goes nothin'...
I broke up with someone this summer. This was my most serious relationship yet, in the way that I had never co-habitated before. However, I now see why I had never co-habitated before. I am not the co-habitating type. At least not right now.
This person was extremely comfortable to me at first. We had known each other in college and had made similar life changes following. I ran into him in the least expected place and was instantly intrigued because he was the first person I knew who at my age, suffered from the same affliction that I was starting to come to terms with suffering from myself.
We hung out as friends for about two seconds, and next thing I knew, we were inseperable, then completely infatuated, then completely in love. We moved quickly because we thought this was it for us.
We were warned against what we were doing by those who knew better. But we ignored their warnings. In my heart, I kept wondering if they were right. I had a realization before I began dating him that I had been completely lost in life for many years, hanging on to all the shit that hurt just because that's all I had been used to. It would have been healthier to learn how to hang on to myself for a while and learn what made me tick. But this was destiny right? He was special.
Wrong. Four months after we began dating, we moved in together. A month after we moved in together, I began feeling like I could not breathe. Literally. Coming home from work I wanted to be left alone and he wanted to cuddle. I was expected to make dinner for both of us and I hadn't even learned to make dinner for myself yet. I was supposed to clean up after both of us, and I could barely clean up after myself. My job required long hours and full focus. His consisted of half days, no required start time and a 'come and go as you please as long as you make the company money' attitude. I got off the train at 6:30 and he had been home for three hours looking at porn on my computer and screwing around. I resented the man and he knew it. But he refused to talk about it.
We didn't end because of him. Every character defect I have within myself was brought to light. I made many mistakes and said many hurtful things. I could not live up to his expectations and I refused to give any more than I already was. He did not think anything was actually wrong so we both held our ground. We stood at this standstill for almost another year.
After we began clashing, I could not wait to find a way to disconnect him from every inch of me. I closed off emotionally and physically and this is when I realized I was going to have to be the one; the one to say the words we refused to admit to ourselves was true: this was becoming a disaster. This began the dialogue of admitting there may be something wrong here. It was infuriating however, because he didn't seem to see what I saw was happening to us. We had some seriously frightening arguments and he could somehow brush them under the rug and move on. I however, was damaged and scared at the way we began to treat each other. I did not feel I was equipped to live this way. In fact, I had promised myself that I would never live that way again. Here's when I began to realize that I had no idea how to be part of a pair. I yearned to be a single. I had never yearned to be single in my life and something told me that I was feeling this for a reason.
I moved out and got my own place eventually. This was a process in itself. When he saw me going on appointments to check out other apartments, he still refused to admit it was really happening. Until it did. Friends helped pack me up and I was out. And I loved my shitty new place. I painted it colors that I loved, I picked out my own furniture (he had convinced me to sell all of mine when we moved in together) and I began to breathe again. He then began to suffocate. His reaction to my moving out was a painful one. He just could not stand the fact that our relationship had changed. A few times he became insanely emotional and I felt terrible so I allowed us to get close again, at first to keep him stable. But each time, I felt more and more certain that this was not going to work. One time I tried to manipulate myself to fall in love with him again. Another time, I got lonely and invited him over, which he took as me initiating us dating again. No matter what I did, I could not hide from the truth that kept rearing its ugly head: we were two people who had completely trashed the gift we were given in each other. We bit off more than we could chew.
Since we've broken up, I have had to force myself to do some new things. I have begun to write again, I paint when I have enough money for canvas, I force myself to reach out to friends who I began to ignore while I was with him, I try to stay active. Oh and I have learned how to clean my own place, make my own food (sometimes) and get back into music. I even bought myself a guitar but I am completely horrible at it. As I've written about before, I lost my job too. Having 9 extra hours a day and being newly single has been cause for much anxiety and emotionalism but I am forcing myself to learn how to survive. As much as it hurts him to know this, I know in my heart that being without him has given me a piece of me back and I am happy to welcome it. I am learning how to be just me, without anyone else completing me. And it's starting to become enough. Seriously.
Recently he's been really acting up and it's really freaking me out. Out of respect for him, I will not relay exactly what he's been doing but let's just say he is completely rebelling against the idea of us being separate from one another. And I am forced to, once again, remind him that it's over. It's so hard to say that to someone that you love.
Granted, I know it's easier for me because I am the one who called the shots here. I am the one who broke it off and I am the one who moved out. I know what it's like to be one the other side as well and I know it takes a bit longer. But he's got to do it. He is a genuinely wonderful person. He deserves to be happy and doesn't need to be with someone who is not happy with him. He will make a great father and husband to someone who can give him what he expects. It's just not me.
I have even dated a bit since him and I have found it to be a very freeing/frightening experience. No new relationships or anything, but I have actually formed some feelings for other people. One to be exact. Except I'm kind of shocked because I'm so used to having someone dote on me that non-chalance seems like complete rejection. That's what's frightening about it. Learning how to navigate singledom again. See I still have a lot of learning to do myself.
All I know is that the phrase, "I loved you enough to let you go," isn't bullshit. You can't stay with someone just to hold them together. At the end of the day, all you have is yourself. No one else can look in the mirror for you. I love myself enough to let myself be alone and learn how to.