Tuesday, July 13, 2010

bereft

Looking back, I sensed it was coming. His calls were hours late. He almost completely blew off my birthday. He'd made lame excuses for not coming by. For a man who spent all of his free time at my apartment, these new developments were telling.

His telephone call "I think we should see other people." took all of the air from my lungs. I was... there is no word for how it made me feel. I choked out, "Why?" and he coldly said he would call me, and we would get together soon, to discuss it.

A roommate found me crumpled on the floor in the kitchen, still clinging to the telephone receiver, sobbing silently. He'd hung up after my first sob.

For days I would call in sick to work - moving from my bedroom to eat, only to remember how he no longer wanted me. I'd rush to the bathroom to throw up any food that might have made it's way into my poor body.

I sat on my bed and stared out the window.

The only energy I spent was to run and answer the phone. But that was a waste of energy.

I heard a roommate in the other room, "She needs to know why. You need to help her move on with her life." She was so worried about me, she'd called him herself. Still, he didn't give me an explanation, no promised meeting, no closure.

After a few weeks, when my feet were back underneath me, albeit shakily at best, the roommates took me out to a friends house for a party. I may have actually been having a good time. But after a while, and some whispering amongst the other guests, he walked in. He walked in with a woman on his arm. A friend of mine. Someone I had introduced him to. On his arm. In his arms. Where I was not.

To act like nothing was wrong, when all eyes were on me, was nearly impossible. But I did it. Probably not well, but I did it. The friends, they rallied around me, whispering encouragement and trying to make me smile.

Over the coming months, I told myself, over and over, that it would be OK.  And eventually it was. 

Many months later,when we eventually DID talk about the break up (the whys and all of the other things that went with it) I learned so much about this man that I thought I knew so well. The pain was still there, of course, but it was mixed with a sense of wonder.  How could I have fallen so deeply in love with someone I knew so little about?

When I look back on our time together; when I take those memories out and examine them - I feel a change come over me. My rough edges become softened with tender thoughts of that man. There is a warm glow that envelopes my heart.  I have to honestly say that I am glad for all of it; the good times and the bad. 

I am grateful that he recognized that we were NOT right for each other; that he knew it was best to break my heart.

2 comments:

  1. As someone who has been on each side of an ended relationship, I can relate to how it feels to be told that it's over, and how it feels to have to tell someone that it's over.

    Both are hard...

    I'm still wondering why your friends would take you to a party to which he would show up, with a date, that you knew (and introduced him to).

    I wonder why - if she was a friend, she did not come to you and say anything at all.

    :( you deserved that much.

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  2. I think they KNEW he would be there. But I don't think any of them KNEW he would have a date. To his credit... the man in question looked completely embarrassed at the situation. He knew he should have told me. He knew he was being the ASS he didn't want to be.

    He had this unnatural fear of becoming exactly like his cheating father. And while he HAD broken with me BEFORE going out with this woman... his intention was to move on long before he did. Who knows how long before?

    I was told later that directly AFTER his call to me... probably the next afternoon? he was seen with HER at the mall. He must've had some indication that she would be agreeable to their meeting and going out? You have to lay some kind of ground-work for that... don't you? In my eyes, he cheated.

    I think in his eyes as well.

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