Breaking up is hard to do

Hands down, break-ups are the absolute worst part of relationships. It’s one thing if you and your ex- live in different cities or different parts of the same city, because then perhaps your paths won’t cross, making it a bit easier to handle.

But when you work together, see each other at the gym or in the same social circles or what-have-you, it’s awful.

There you’ve been, feeling like ass, flat hair, puffy eyes, crappy clothes, sad demeanour, and there they are, looking like their life hasn’t changed in the least — or that it’s only gotten better (or maybe this is just my luck). Always better, never the worst for losing out on the wonderful, amazing, fantastic, intelligent, fun, gorgeous, hot and sexy mad-skillzed person that is you.

Yet, somehow, they don’t want you anymore: “It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve changed. I want different things in life. We’ve grown apart. Etc., etc.” Here is this person who used to lavish love and affectino on you, told you you were a million times sexier than Jennifer Lopez (barf) or Brad Pitt (also barf) could ever hope to be, told you they never wanted to hurt you, that they loved you… now this same person doesn’t want to be your one and only? What the fuck?!

Getting dumped is the biggest kick in the self-esteem I know — it ranks even above being the “fat girl” in a group of near-anorexic girls out for a night of drinking; and I know, ’cause I’ve been the “fat girl” and I’ve been dumped.

I start off trying to convince myself that he’s the one missing out, that he’ll miss me, that he’ll realize how happy I made him… and then it turns into a pity party, invitation for one: If I’m so awesome, great, fun, smart, etc… why doesn’t he want to be with me?

Sometimes other things bring people apart, and that’s pretty ass, too. Maybe it wasn’t the relationship, but other circumstances — we’ve grown apart, I’m moving away, I have too much baggage. I think in some ways these are the worst, because the irrational, selfish little voice in my head pops up at moments like these to squeak, “Yeah, but if he loved you enough, he’d try.” I hate that little voice with the fiery passion of ten thousand burning suns — it represents both all of my hopes and all of my insecurities wrapped into one package of awful.

Anyhow, back on track. Well-meaning friends can be awful at times like these, too: “Oh, you’ll find someone better” — I’ve heard that phrase from the guy himself, too. My reaction? “I think he’s great, perfect for me, exactly who could I find that would be this better of which you speak?” (‘Cause I talk like that normally, too). When you’re desperately pining for someone, hearing, “You’ll do better next time” doesn’t help.

It’s when you’ve on to trashing him for his stupidity and short-sightedness in leaving you that those phrases are more appropriate. And fun.

Normallly I try to have some sort of tying-things-together point when I write these articles, and maybe even a proper conclusion or moral. Well, not so much moral, since a lot of what I like to write about could be considered immoral, but I like to have something for people to “learn.” Not that most of this tends to be that new to anyone, either, but… anyhow. I really don’t have much to say that’s positive or upbeat about break-ups except that they suck ass monkeys, and whenever I’m dealing with the aftermath of a really painful one, it really makes me wonder if the relationships themselves are worth it.

But every new relationship gives me that little bit of hope, and there are the memories and the things I’ve learned from each relationship… so it’s really a toss-up. I’m finding though that as I get older and get more and more attached to each person I date, as my feelings deepen and get harder and harder to let go of, that each time I wonder if the effort is really worth it. I love the excitement and promise of a new relationship, I love learning new things about the people in my lives, and I love that initial sexual tension that comes from a new relationship — or the improved sex that comes from a longer one — but then when the break-up happens… I’m back to feeling like ass, like I’ll never be able to move on, and the walls come right back up again.

Trusting again after a break-up is really hard; you’ve been hurt, so it’s natural that you want to protect yourself from being hurt again. Maybe you won’t reveal as many secrets as you did, or maybe you won’t open up as quickly, or maybe you’ll just close yourself off from that person that you did open up to; each person deals with things differently. All of a sudden every word that your ex- utters is suffused with meaning, and the smallest act of kindness from him or her means the world to you. Or maybe this is just me, but I’ve seen it in a few friends.

The irony of it all is that sometimes, the best way to get over an ex- is to fall for a new guy or girl. I look forward to the day that I can stop the insanity and either be wed or be emotionally dead. Yeah, that’s a good plan. Either that or lesbianism.

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