They say that breaking up is hard to do. Neil Sedaka even sang a song with that title that I cannot help but mentally sing as I write this post. But they got it wrong. Breaking up is actually quite easy to do. One person says they are done with the relationship and the other can choose to either walk away gracefully or get upset but in the end, it is done. Snap!
It’s the aftermath that sucks. The moving on. The picking up the pieces.
In my case, the moving on began immediately for him. He ended our relationship so he could have sex with a teenage girl. My already shattered self esteem took another hit…I am approaching 40. I had gained weight. I no longer felt sexy. Desired. Wanted. Adding further insult to this? He and I had literally just signed another year lease so we were stuck with each other. His plan was for the two of us to stay living together as roommates the remaining 11 months of the lease but go our separate ways when it was up for renewal. I swallowed whatever pride I still had and agreed. And secretly thought our breakup could not possibly last.
But it did. And now it is time for me to finally move on. The year is up. I announced last night I was moving out. Moving away. A HUGE part of me hoped he would beg me to stay. That this year somehow proved to him that women his own age are better than teenagers still living at home. He didn’t. I shamelessly asked whether we would still hang out (I sill planned to come back to the city every now and then) but he gave a vague “maybe someday” answer that pretty well means that he and I will never see each other again. I could lie and say I wasn’t hurt. But I can’t. It hurt. And I think I am finally able to admit…heartbroken.
So…
Now, I am starting to pack my belongings and pick up the broken pieces of not only my heart but my pride. I found a place. It’s 800 miles from here. I am excited and sad at the same time. He barely speaks to me now. Looks at me with contempt. It hurts. I woke early this morning and stared at him while he slept. In my bed. Peacefully. I am strengthened with the knowledge he will soon be sleeping on the floor as the bed is mine and traveling with me. It is petty but I will take what I can get!
I long for a hug or a smile letting me know the last four years meant something. Ugh. Now, I am starting to cry…sheech! And maybe, someday he will realize it did. My hope is that he does before he commits to somebody else and learns.. .grows. Because despite everything, I want him to be happy.
And so I am finally…FINALLY…choosing to hold my head high and walk away gracefully.