I’m awake and no sign of sleepiness so thought it a good idea (?!) to get this down on screen (poor old, forgotten paper) so it might get out of my head …..
This is a pretty insufferable post so I won’t begrudge anyone if they read it and go ‘ffs woman, get a fucking grip and move on’ …. Or just don’t read any of it if you think that you might have that response.
A few months ago, I wrote some posts called ‘the dating game’ about my experiences with this man who I shall call M. I ended up deleting them in fear of him finding them. I don’t really give a shit now as we’ve split up (yes, we have actually split for good this time!).
What I don’t like is how my brain is still thinking of him, constantly. Of how I miss him so much that it does hurt. That I will never see him or smell him again. And then there’s the puppy …. 😦
I know that time will pass and as my mantraband states ‘this too shall pass’. It shall pass but I still have to live through the pain. I am a bugger for holding on to lost loves, there’s one person (no longer living) who I still dream about even now.
What do we do with these feelings? Right now, I’ve decided not to fight against them and just accept them.
If I want to cry, I will cry. I’ve moved on a bit in the seven days since we split up, I’m feeling less crap about myself as lots of lovely people have told me that I’m an ok person. I’m lucky to have people who genuinely care about me. I’m not sure M has that (and yes, that makes me feel sad).
He brought out a strange need in me to nurture and look after him. I wanted to make him happy, to soothe his woes and provide a steady rock to hold on to. In the process of trying to be all these things, I lost myself. I stopped doing stuff that I enjoyed and retreated back into my own little world. It happened so slowly that it only occurred to me today that I have pretty much ground to a halt.
On the surface, I tried to believe that all was well and this was a strong relationship. Deep down, my body was saying otherwise. My depression has made a come back, my CFS is worse and I feel like a ghost of someone who once had a life.
I don’t know how he did it but he stripped me bare. I was just on the up after my overdose and anxiety attacks, I thought I’d dip my toe into the world of romance and see what happens. That was my biggest mistake.
Heartbreak is an odd and painful experience. In many respects, it’s really not that important. You watch the news and you think ‘why am I sobbing over a shithead when people are dying in wars?’. The broken hearted person acts outside logic – a bit like mental illness. You know, feeling totally alone when you’re not actually totally alone ….. So people can sneer at you and tell you to grow up but you know, they would be the same if someone broke their heart.
So, for now, I will endure and accept that I have a broken heart. One day, it won’t seem important at all. One day, I will look back and wonder why I made such a fuss. Until that moment, I am going to be like scratched vinyl. Stuck in a rut and resorting to the same nonsensical crap over and over again. You’ve been warned 🙂
Love, tea and hugs to the broken hearted ones of this world
PS I haven’t even touched on the lies he and me believing but it’s late….