Since I cannot have thine;
For if from yours you will not part,
Why, then, shouldst thou have mine?"
~John Suckling
"So who broke you?"
That's one of the questions I've asked a lot of my guy friends. You know, those guys. The ones who have become the 'players' and 'heart-breakers' of today. And they all have the same answer... "well there was this girl..."
There is always that one person who finally does us in for good. That one person who finally ruins any potential for successful relationships for us beyond them. That one person who broke us so badly, and whether we admit it or not, that we will never fully be over. Or in my case, and the case of many of my girlfriends, there were a few that added up and that 'one' was just the final straw.
Yesterday I received more registrations in the mail at work for a conference that my boss and I coordinate. I unfold the registration and the name on the check catches my eye. It sent my heart to the pit of my stomach and suddenly I felt like I was going to be sick. It was from the mother of my last serious boyfriend... the 'one' who finally broke me. When I saw her name, hundreds of memories came flooding through my brain- almost as if I was going into a heartache induced seizure. Suddenly I found myself reminiscing of that short time her son and I were together. He was everything I had ever imagined my 'Prince Charming' to be. Well... at least he made me believe he was. For the first time in my life I was in ridiculous bliss. I was blinded to everyone else around me. For the first three months life couldn't have gotten better. He was gorgeous, sexy, tall, dark, handsome, romantic, intelligent, strong, manly, and my 'country boy'. Even thinking about him now, I can still remember how he smelled. But alas, all good things must end.
Around the three month mark- he ripped my heart out. He ended us with no warning, no notice, and some very hurtful words. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. A month or so went by and he came back, crying and begging me to take him back and forgive him. I did, of course, and welcomed him back with open arms- although a bit gun shy and leery. After a few weeks it was back to where we were before and I was back in my state of ignorant bliss. Again, the three month mark rolled around and he ripped my heart out again. I had sworn to myself years before him that I would never cry after or beg a man to be with me. But I dropped all my pride and dignity and cried after him as he got into his truck and drove away- not even looking back. A week passed and again he called, crying and begging. This time I thought I made him prove himself. He swore he went to a doctor and was diagnosed bipolar and got a prescription for meds to help him. He swore he had gotten help and was even seeing a therapist and that he would never hurt me again. And, like the foolish woman I am, I believed.
As you can guess- the story did not end like the fairy tales. He ripped my heart out one last time and I finally bid him farewell for good. "Three strikes you're out", I told him. It was hard but then he said something so cruel I won't even type it here- which made me hate him. I thank him for that actually. His horrible words made it easier to say goodbye. But the whole experience of him re-opened the hole that I thought I was starting to finally heal. And sadly, a year and a half after saying goodbye, that hole is still there. It's funny how such a short relationship can lead you to that dark place in your head and your heart that no one can rescue you from.
Today, as I was lying in my dentist chair under the influence of nitrous, listening to sappy love songs on my mp3 player, my mind started racing through memory after memory. Heartache after heartache. Each one different, yet, somehow the same. A different villain in each storyline, same broken feeling.
The lying from my ex-husband. Years before we were married, and even after we were married. But he was my soul and I loved him so I forgave each sin. Then I became the 'bad guy' for my one sin against him, for which I will never forgive myself. He is now with an old high school girlfriend and they recently had a baby. I wish him nothing but happiness and joy.
The 'Casanova' bastard who told me everything I'd ever wanted to hear from my ex-husband and didn't mean a word of it. The one who made me believe that happiness really was possible. The one I crushed my ex-husband over. The selfish one who will never grow up and never truly love anyone but himself. He is now married with a baby and still hasn't realized the error of his ways. Karma's a bitch. I thought he learned that a few years ago...evidently not.
My sons father. I trusted him from day one. There was something so angelic about him from the beginning. But I was never good enough for him. I smoked too much, didn't eat right, didn't exercise enough, was too much of this or too little of that. The day I gave birth to our stillborn son he was leaving flirty comments on another girls pictures on her Myspace. He swears he never cheated. Did he? I'll never know. He always preached at me about how exes can never really be friends. Yet while we were together he started hanging out with a girl he had slept with years before that. They were, of course, "Just friends". They now live together. We still talk on occasion but he's not allowed to actually be my 'friend'- it might hurt that girls feelings. Hmmm... wonder if she thinks about how I felt?
My "Prince Charming". As you read above, he was the straw that broke the camel's back. A week after our final conversation in February he met a girl at a tanning salon. They were married August 1st of that same year. She added me on Facebook for about a week and then I deleted her, and I even spoke to her on the phone. She seems like a sweet girl. I wish them the best but can't help but feel my stomach drop at the mention of his name or the sight of his face and those dark brown eyes that hypnotized me so many times.
There is always that one person who finally does us in for good. That one person who finally ruins any potential for successful relationships for us beyond them. That one person who broke us so badly, and whether we admit it or not, that we will never fully be over. Or in my case, and the case of many of my girlfriends, there were a few that added up and that 'one' was just the final straw.
Yesterday I received more registrations in the mail at work for a conference that my boss and I coordinate. I unfold the registration and the name on the check catches my eye. It sent my heart to the pit of my stomach and suddenly I felt like I was going to be sick. It was from the mother of my last serious boyfriend... the 'one' who finally broke me. When I saw her name, hundreds of memories came flooding through my brain- almost as if I was going into a heartache induced seizure. Suddenly I found myself reminiscing of that short time her son and I were together. He was everything I had ever imagined my 'Prince Charming' to be. Well... at least he made me believe he was. For the first time in my life I was in ridiculous bliss. I was blinded to everyone else around me. For the first three months life couldn't have gotten better. He was gorgeous, sexy, tall, dark, handsome, romantic, intelligent, strong, manly, and my 'country boy'. Even thinking about him now, I can still remember how he smelled. But alas, all good things must end.
Around the three month mark- he ripped my heart out. He ended us with no warning, no notice, and some very hurtful words. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. A month or so went by and he came back, crying and begging me to take him back and forgive him. I did, of course, and welcomed him back with open arms- although a bit gun shy and leery. After a few weeks it was back to where we were before and I was back in my state of ignorant bliss. Again, the three month mark rolled around and he ripped my heart out again. I had sworn to myself years before him that I would never cry after or beg a man to be with me. But I dropped all my pride and dignity and cried after him as he got into his truck and drove away- not even looking back. A week passed and again he called, crying and begging. This time I thought I made him prove himself. He swore he went to a doctor and was diagnosed bipolar and got a prescription for meds to help him. He swore he had gotten help and was even seeing a therapist and that he would never hurt me again. And, like the foolish woman I am, I believed.
As you can guess- the story did not end like the fairy tales. He ripped my heart out one last time and I finally bid him farewell for good. "Three strikes you're out", I told him. It was hard but then he said something so cruel I won't even type it here- which made me hate him. I thank him for that actually. His horrible words made it easier to say goodbye. But the whole experience of him re-opened the hole that I thought I was starting to finally heal. And sadly, a year and a half after saying goodbye, that hole is still there. It's funny how such a short relationship can lead you to that dark place in your head and your heart that no one can rescue you from.
Today, as I was lying in my dentist chair under the influence of nitrous, listening to sappy love songs on my mp3 player, my mind started racing through memory after memory. Heartache after heartache. Each one different, yet, somehow the same. A different villain in each storyline, same broken feeling.
The lying from my ex-husband. Years before we were married, and even after we were married. But he was my soul and I loved him so I forgave each sin. Then I became the 'bad guy' for my one sin against him, for which I will never forgive myself. He is now with an old high school girlfriend and they recently had a baby. I wish him nothing but happiness and joy.
The 'Casanova' bastard who told me everything I'd ever wanted to hear from my ex-husband and didn't mean a word of it. The one who made me believe that happiness really was possible. The one I crushed my ex-husband over. The selfish one who will never grow up and never truly love anyone but himself. He is now married with a baby and still hasn't realized the error of his ways. Karma's a bitch. I thought he learned that a few years ago...evidently not.
My sons father. I trusted him from day one. There was something so angelic about him from the beginning. But I was never good enough for him. I smoked too much, didn't eat right, didn't exercise enough, was too much of this or too little of that. The day I gave birth to our stillborn son he was leaving flirty comments on another girls pictures on her Myspace. He swears he never cheated. Did he? I'll never know. He always preached at me about how exes can never really be friends. Yet while we were together he started hanging out with a girl he had slept with years before that. They were, of course, "Just friends". They now live together. We still talk on occasion but he's not allowed to actually be my 'friend'- it might hurt that girls feelings. Hmmm... wonder if she thinks about how I felt?
My "Prince Charming". As you read above, he was the straw that broke the camel's back. A week after our final conversation in February he met a girl at a tanning salon. They were married August 1st of that same year. She added me on Facebook for about a week and then I deleted her, and I even spoke to her on the phone. She seems like a sweet girl. I wish them the best but can't help but feel my stomach drop at the mention of his name or the sight of his face and those dark brown eyes that hypnotized me so many times.
With each heartache a chunk of ourselves gets broken away. After we experience that final 'one', something happens inside of us that we don't even realize. We become desensitized to love. Yes, I have been crazy about people since my last heart-break, but I have not allowed myself to feel real love for anyone since him. Sadly, I've become a bit of a villain myself, as we all do after being hurt so many times. We learn to be on constant guard of our hearts and souls, and we are subconsciously attracted to the ones that we know we can never have anything real with. As soon as we start to actually 'feel' something, we find a reason (or a hundred) to back off. We develop a phobia of emotional pain. I personally would rather someone beat me half to death than to break my heart ever again. Bruises and broken bones heal with time- true heartache never fully does.
Present day... I sit here in my one bedroom apartment in front of my monitor. My cat asleep on the chair behind me, and my apartment completely silent other than the tranquil humming from my computer and my fingers tapping away on the keyboard. I stay in a comfortably numb state for the most part. Until something sparks the memories like a name on a check. Or nitrous and sappy love songs.
"I am tired, Beloved,
of chafing my heart against
the want of you;
of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
And posting it."
~Amy Lowell, "The Letter"
Present day... I sit here in my one bedroom apartment in front of my monitor. My cat asleep on the chair behind me, and my apartment completely silent other than the tranquil humming from my computer and my fingers tapping away on the keyboard. I stay in a comfortably numb state for the most part. Until something sparks the memories like a name on a check. Or nitrous and sappy love songs.
"I am tired, Beloved,
of chafing my heart against
the want of you;
of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
And posting it."
~Amy Lowell, "The Letter"
