"I guess there's got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus, when it rains how it pours/ Throw on your clothes, the second side of Surfer Rosa, and you leave me, yeah, you leave me."Well, I mean... technically I guess I left him. Or at least it was mutual. Who knows. Maybe he left me first in a million small ways that I was too frightened to acknowledge or accept. I suppose it's a weird thing we do, keeping score like it matters even a little bit who outdrew ya. Nobody wins, everyone is sad, so who cares? This thing that was "us" is now over and it doesn't feel like the wrong thing, but it feels bad, empty, lonely... I mean, of course it does, that's what breaking up feels like (what am I new?). It's a failure all around. But, yah, for the record... I suggested we needed space, he took it, there was space... then I told him we needed to talk and then he beat me to the punch with the words.
He sat down on my couch and looked up at me and said "I think we need to break up" (cue record screeching to a stop). I... was not expecting that. I mean, I totally was... but not like that. We had been through rough patches and he always insisted we were fine even when I was super positive it was over. This time was different for him, just not really for me. I knew that at the end of this night whatever we had become would be done, but I had expected to have to explain why and I guess for it to be harder. I was anticipating him not understanding. But here it was - final and decisive - which is totally better... right? Right...
I said something like "well, sure, I think we both know that's what we are doing here. But I guess I thought we might ease into it a little. I mean... are you double parked outside or something?" ba-dum-bum-CHING. Nobody laughed in the moment, but now it feels like the only funny thing. He stayed for a while, mostly at my insistence. I caught up on his life. I gave him my armchair psychoanalysis of his situation (which he tolerated politely). He asked me if I passed Pharm. We shared some nice memories of us and then he left. I wondered why exactly I had shaved my legs for this. I didn't cry. I stared out the window. He seemed sad and lost. I still feel the desire to help him but I couldn't reach him as his girlfriend so it seems unlikely I could help him now. That's normal to want to help people, right? Or am I just holding on? Being useful?
Now it just feels like a dull ache in my chest that I can't make go away. He's on my mind, but I know I need to let it go. Let him go. He is not my person and I am not his person and it was a year of our lives that is over now. I wish he had not forgotten my birthday and I wish I had helped him quit smoking. I wish a lot of things were different, but that is not how this works. I just don't know how this works. How do I get better?