I’ve toggled with the idea of writing a blog for the past several months… no, not months. Years. As many of you that write, publishing your feelings so vulnerably online can be intimidating. After all, the more you put yourself out there the more susceptible you are to being hurt. But since I’ve tried everything else in the book to move on from the relationship that ended six months ago, this seemed like the perfect time. So, here I am, sitting outside of Starbucks in the quiet community of Celebration, FL. People are passing by; riding bikes, walking their dogs, starting happy hour 3 hours early, and enjoying the beautiful weather. I seem to blend in as I sit here with my laptop and headphones in. Nobody knows the silent hell I’ll be writing about for the next hour. I guess that’s the beauty of blogging. You can be amongst society where you feel out of place for the feelings that consume you, but yet nobody you’re next to has to know what you’re doing. For all they know I’m a local college student writing a paper for my final exam. So, let’s get started…
I’m here hoping to find a release of some sort, or to find those that can relate to the pain I feel daily. I was with my ex-boyfriend, (which, by the way, I HATE referring to as my ex. It sounds so final) for two years. He was my entire world…Maybe too much of my world at some points. He was my bestfriend, my shoulder to cry on, my partner in crime, my everything. When we went on our first date on November 8, 2013 I knew I had met the man of my dreams. I told my friends and families that was the last first date I’d ever go on. Saying I fell hard is an understatement. It’s like I jumped off the Empire State Building and hit the ground in .01 seconds. After our first date, I was hooked…and so was he. From the outside in it looked like a magical love story. We were blissfully obsessed with each other. It was as if I had dumped a puzzle out of a box and the pieces magically fell together to create a beautiful picture. Everything was easy. Everything was perfect.
Two months into our relationship things took a turn, and what I didn’t know at the time was a turn for the worst and I should have ran like hell. He told me he struggled with people he loves drinking and going out. Being 24 years old I was always going out with my friends, drinking way too much, and waking up with headaches where I swore to never drink again. It was a life I became accustomed to in college and never saw a real problem with because ‘everybody is doing it’. Everybody except the person I fell in love with. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around it or drink himself, he had a full blown phobia with me drinking. Anytime I would mention having a beer, just one beer, it would turn into a panic attack. One night it got so bad I had to call his parents and apologize, but to try and help me explain. it became hard to hang out with my friends, it became harder for me to feel like I was able to do what I wanted to do…and that my friends, is when I started to lose myself.
Fast forward a year and a half later, we were still trying to make it work. There were months where I became complacent with my new, sober life. And then there were the moments where I would lose my shit, go off the deep end, and drink like Captain Jack Sparrow. Those nights never ended well, obviously. And the days to follow were accompanied with quiet dinners, awkward stares, and lots of “I’m sorry”.
–Let me pause for a moment. If you have read this far and can relate at all to slowly changing yourself for a relationship, stop. Don’t do it. If there’s any advice I could give my younger self it would be to NEVER change what you like to do or who you are for someone else. You’ll spend a lot more time trying to get yourself back then you did altering yourself for another human–
Another four months go by and the amount of phone calls I am making to my parents about being unhappy are increasing by the week. I’m crying a lot more, losing weight, not sleeping, and becoming quite the raging bitch. My Mom visits me from Oklahoma and as I’m crying in a restaurant about how much I love this man, but yet I’m so miserable, she asks “is it time for me to move down here?”. I was floored. My Mom, who is happily married to my Stepdad, is offering to uproot her life and move down here with me to help me get through this toxic point in my life. I didn’t pause, I just said yes.
A couple months later she moved here. I moved out of the house he had bought for us to start our lives together and started the process of moving on. However, we hadn’t broken up yet. We originally took me moving out as an opportunity for us to give each other space and to work on ourselves. Being together, but living apart, was the first hurdle. I thought it was exactly what I wanted, until 24 hours later. I was unpacking my clothes, putting shirts on hangers and placing them in my closet and I collapsed to the floor balling my eyes out. The only thing I could think is what the heck had I done. The nights were rough, I would cry myself to sleep, cry when I woke up, cry in the shower…I cried all the damn time. Everyone told me this would be a good thing and I needed to give myself time. I was encouraged by almost everyone in my life to end the relationship completely so I could move on because he wasn’t the right one for me. So, that’s exactly what I did.
I showed up at his house feeling absolutely nothing…and I ended my relationship with him.
Here I am, six months down the road, and I still can’t figure out what came over me that night to end a relationship with someone I love. Why didn’t I just give us time? Why was I impulsive? Why did I go through with it?
Those are questions I don’t have the answer to, and probably never will. Because, truth be told, when you love someone and it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, it hurts like hell.
Now that you know a little bit about why I started this blog, I hope you’ll be able to offer words of encouragement or share your story if you have experienced something similar. Somehow knowing that other people are experiencing the same things, it makes you feel less alone.