The landscape of a breakup
Looks a lot like grief. Mourning.
It is. It’s a loss, an absence. A crater where there once
was a blooming fucking tree.
And you still love the other person. And maybe they still
love you too. At any rate, most of them are decent sorts, they don’t want to
see you hurting. It kills them to see that devastation in your eyes, in your
heart, in every exhausted line of your body as you struggle to get through the
day while wrapping your mind around the end of everything.
You’re losing a vision. The future you built in your head.
The house and the career and the 2.5 children born with a midwife at home in
your bathtub. The trips to share the places where you grew up, the experiences
that made you who you are. You want to share everything with them, want them to
see every nook and cranny of your soul.
You tell yourself that even some conflict is good. That it’s
really not that big of an issue, that it just shows that you both have good communication
that you’re able and willing to find a middle ground. You’ve both been here
before (we’ve all been here before). Those fundamental conflicts. Identities.
Absolute needs, or must have’s, or absolutely not’s. In that first flush of
love, that beautiful endorphin waterfall, suddenly those are things that you
can see another point of view.
Maybe I could have children if I were going to raise them
with her. Maybe it’s ok that you’re telling me you’re interested in an open
relationship, we’ll just take it one step at a time. Maybe my life will settle
down and I’ll travel less once I finish school, or get a better job, and we can
finally live together and move forward.
At some point you don’t realize that your happiness is
slipping away. You cling to each other in the storm, washing up exhausted on
desolate shores, telling each other that it’s just stress, the job, the housing
market, the internship. Soon it will be over. We’re here for each other. I just
need to focus on getting through this thing, he understands. She has her own
battles to focus on right now, but we’re there for each other. We love each
other.
Someone reaches a breaking point. As much as the relationship
hurts her, she doesn’t want to hurt you. He justifies the break up by pointing
out how unfair it is to both of you. The damage you’re both suffering. As much
as he needs to get out, he needs you to agree. Her self-image can’t take being
the bad guy.
And you are devastated. You feared it was coming, you knew
it was bad, but how was it this bad? When did you stop seeing the reality that
you were living in? But you know that she’s right. And you even have a tiny
sense of relief in the sea of hurt. The struggle is over. You don’t have to pretend
that things are ok anymore. You can focus on finding a new partner, one who
doesn’t think farts are valid joke material, or one who is doesn’t loath the
scary movies you adore. Every partner you’ve had has been better than the last –
why should this time be any different? You are a brave independent modern
feminist woman – you don’t need a partner to find happiness and fulfillment!
Set forth on your brave new adventure to conquer the breakup emotions!
But. Trickles of doubt creep in. Fear, of change, of the
unknown. How will you live without this person who is full of so many
incredible qualities that surely cannot possibly coexist in another human
being? How is it possible for your heart to be ripped out of your chest and
inverted onto the table as you struggle to comprehend the meaning of that loss?
You will never travel with him to see the places that you both dreamed of
going. You will not debate cloth vs disposable diapers. You will never wake up
to her smile, or fall asleep in her arms. The pain is overwhelming, a fire that
is destroying every fiber of your being.
Anything to make the pain stop. Anything.
Compromise. Grasping. Gasping. There’s more to be done. We
didn’t try hard enough. Now we’ve both seen how terrible it is to not be
together. Now we’re both motivated to make it work. If we just had better
communication. If I could just see her point of view. If we wait to make a
final decision until I move out, or you move in, or the campaign season is
over, or we live in the same city. We could start again, start slowly, get to
know each other again. Rebuild the future we envisioned, brick by brick.
Things will be better, this time.
