You’re Going To Miss Him But You’ll Also Forget Him

Breakups suck. They’re reminders of failure and imperfection. They send us into hormonal fluctuations leading to bouts of mania, despondency, and everything in between. They’re a series of highs and lows, happy’s and sad’s, good days followed by bad ones—-emotional roller coasters we didn’t purchase passes to ride. We’ve all been there. Some more than others. And there’s no doubt that it hurts like hell. Though it may seem unfathomable right now… I promise you’re going to be more than okay.

When you begin entertaining the idea that you’re the reason your relationships continually fail, that something must be wrong with you, it’s easy to become entranced by only the fond memories that you’re somehow solely responsible for no longer having. You jump into the fast-pass lane of that nauseating roller coaster, cling onto the ‘what-if’s’ and ‘should-have’s’ and brace yourself for the ride. What if you had noticed the little things a little sooner? Like how he held you a little tighter right before he fell asleep, how he kissed your forehead before he ran off to work, or how he’d make you breakfast on weekend mornings while you were still sound asleep. What if you had backed away just a tad and gave each other some space? You began neglecting your priorities and the things you enjoy. What if you communicated your needs a little more clearly? Like in person, and not over ridiculous texts. You should have realized this all so much sooner, damnit. You reminisce of the times you laughed so hard it hurt deep in your belly, and it brings a smile to your face.

You think about how perfect it felt dancing away to that old country song in the middle of the living room, and you can suddenly hear that song playing in your head. You think about how safe you thought your delicate heart was in his hands, because he knew how deeply you loved, how destroyed you’ve been, and how fragile the mended result still remained. You reflect on how easy it was for you to be yourself at first, how good that felt, and wonder why the hell you ever let that change. You wonder how you trusted him so easily.

And then you suddenly feel the urge to scream as the train approaches the peak and begins its first descent. Scream. Scream at the top of your lungs. Let the anger and frustration escape the confines of your body. You are entitled to feel angry–disappointed even!

All you ever wanted was an ounce of his affection, to merely be considered, but instead, you were given a slow dose of avoidance and nonchalance topped off with a final telephonic note of your worth. And while he gave into the impetuous post-breakup douchery, like his failure to consider how pathetic and disposable you’d look as he raved about how over you he was, and how many beautiful women he’d found via modern dating apps, you were desperately struggling to find where it was that you last left yourself. How could he be so indifferent while you were so in love?

How could he turn his back on you so easily, if he cared as much as he led you to believe? How could he not feel a thing? What happened to your friend? What the hell happened to you?

You’re considerably disappointed in yourself for falling into this loveblind altruistic trance that eventually rendered you prosaic at best. You realize that above all else, that’s the part that hurts the worst. You left the one person in this entire world who would always choose you, who would never betray you, who thought you were beautifully imperfect, and understood you–all to focus your efforts on someone who didn’t appreciate your added value. You hate that. And you want so badly to hate him and to blame him for that, but you can’t. You know that the person guilty of such crass behavior isn’t the man that you know, and deep down, he’s still there. You refuse to believe that you could ever fall for someone like this. His actions are merely those of your average stubborn male with underdeveloped EQ and no current desire to improve it–at least not for you. You hope that’s the case. You have to believe that’s the case, because the converse is realizing that the image of that other person is a facade you were tricked into believing was reality. But either way, you forgive both. Even if neither is asking. Even if they never do.

But as the repetition of ups and downs continues along the ride, it becomes a lot easier, much less terrifying, and eventually… enjoyable. The exhilarating ride is a necessary reminder that you’re still alive, that you still have the ability to experience real feelings, and that the thrill and overall enjoyment of the entire theme park venture was worth every single emotion that you felt along the way. There are memories that you can cherish, aspects of the park that you didn’t enjoy, and a newfound sense of undaunted courage you acquired by riding that terrifying roller coaster with no time for mental preparation.

You leave with gratitude and fulfillment, eager to see what’s next, knowing that in years to come, you can easily glance back on your experience at this theme park and say “damn… that was one hell of a time,” but remaining confident that your trip to “Disneyland” awaits you somewhere down the road, and you can’t wait to meet him visit.