Sunday, 7 August 2016

Three Months Later...

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'I know that I can survive, I walked through fire to save my life. And I want it, I want my life so bad. And I'm doing everything I can. Then another one bites the dust... It's hard to lose a chosen one.' Sia, Elastic Heart.

Three months ago I got a phone call that would change the course of my life. It was my boyfriend, calling from Gran Canaria, where he'd been on holiday for a fortnight. It was a call that would last seven minutes. That's all it took him to finish our four year relationship. His delivery was simple but brutal: basically, he said, he didn't miss me; that he ought to, but he didn't and therefore I should go and find someone who would. Then he told me that he had to go as he was off to a posh restaurant with his friends. He hung up and it was all I could do not to vomit into the sad bowl of cold pasta that sat in front of me. It didn't make much sense. This was my happily ever after. I was part of his family and he was part of me. This was the bloke who I thought I would grow old with.

Since that phone call - that strange, confusing, horrible phone call - he has vanished from my life. I haven't heard a single thing from him. Not a phone call, not a text message, nothing. He's expunged me from his life in my entirety, which was perhaps the most hurtful and most difficult thing of all, especially when you consider the fact that he has sustained meaningful relationships with all his other exes. And even though I haven't done anything wrong, I've been cut loose: removed from his social media, phone number blocked, emails unanswered. As far as he is concerned, I am persona non grata. Where I used to have a loving partner, I now have a wall of silence and an empty space. I know it sounds dramatic (me, dramatic?), but it feels like he's died. He's gone and I'm lost.  

Or at least I was. The first month was pretty disastrous but on the plus side, I lost a stone in weight. Silver linings and all that. I would remain awake at night, ruminating on all of the red flags that were suddenly so obvious. And then I discovered the real reason for his stonewalling: his new bloke. Who is cross-eyed. But you know what? It's okay. I don't have the energy to be bitter about it. All I can do is wish him well and hope that he's happy. Don't get me wrong, I was angry and hurt - the latter feeling still lingers, along with a crushing disappointment, when I think about him. I just wish that he could have been more honest. It wouldn't have been an easy conversation, but I would have retained a modicum of respect for him. As it stands, I don't.

That said, I do miss him. I probably always will. I miss laughing with him - and we did that all the time. I know it will all come to pass, but it feels harder than previous break ups, mainly for the reason that I'm back to square one. My life plan has evaporated, along with his presence. I'm forty next month and while I don't have an issue with my age, I didn't expect to hit the big 4-0 without him by my side. The idea was that we'd go to New York to mark the occasion. New York will still happen at some point - I just wanted to do it with him. I had so many plans for us.

I wonder how long it will be before I'm over it, whatever that means. It's undeniably easier than it was, but - and as I said earlier - the hurt, the ache, the sting I feel, is still there. It's not as raw and I accept the split for what it is. We're over, we're done. It's just a fucking shame, you know? It feels just like grief: it's a process, an arduous, hideous process and one that I have to ride out.

In the meantime, I'm getting myself back out there and I'm having fun. I've been on a few dates, but if anything, it's just reinforced the fact that I'm not ready for all that sort of carry on. The idea of getting into another relationship at the moment is exhausting and even a bit frightening. There are advantages to being single. I like my freedom. I like doing as I please and not having to answer to anyone. It's only now I realise how much I gave to the relationship and how little I got back. I was invested. He wasn't. Oh well.

As the cliché dictates, life goes on. I have some amazing friends and they've been brilliant. I'm taking things one day at a time and I'm okay. I'm going to give the last word to my top gal, Madge: 'I could get caught up in bitterness,  But I'm not dwelling on this crazy mess /  I found freedom in the ugly truth,  I deserve the best and it's not you. / You've broken my heart, but you can't bring it down,  I've fallen apart, I was lost, now I'm found. /  I picked up my crown, put it back on my head / I can forgive, but I will never forget.'

You tell 'em, Madge.



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