This past year I have had a lot of learning in this department and have found heartbreak presents itself in a multitude of different ways.
As I’ve mentioned previously, I had my first big kid heartbreak this year which spawned the ride of a lifetime and quick move to Boston. I’ve been sitting here mulling over how to put this, what it felt like and how I got over it, but to be honest I don’t really think there are words for it. It hurt. Bad. And a lot. It does for everyone who has to go through it. It’s a pain you can’t describe, a loss you think about constantly, and it happens to everyone at one point in their life. For me it was a little different because my immediate reaction was to throw myself into something new (aka moving) so it took a little longer for it to set in. How I describe it is I did the breakup process ass backwards – things I do not recommend. So there I was, five months after the fact and I finally realized I had nothing else to distract me and I had to face this dark cloud. First instinct – run home to mom. I didn’t even make it in the door before she came at me with a monster of a hug and tears running down her face to match mine. My mom’s pretty great. She knew I had yet to even touch the issue, but let me go about it in my own way. My stubbornness tells me to “rub some dirt on it and get back in the game” when in reality, you gotta face your demons. So, almost a year later and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t still sting. I didn’t just lose a boyfriend, I lost my high school best friend and it has yet to be determined if we’ll ever really be a part of each other’s lives again. I no longer think it makes me sound weak to say I still miss him and his family, how could I not? They made me a better person by having them in my life. Now looking back on it, he was 100% right. We weren’t right for each other, at least the people we were then (I can say I’ve changed – I’m sure he has too). This is going to sound a little odd and I’m sure many of you are going to think “GIRL – YOU ARE CRAZY,” but I’m glad I had my heart broken. I had to start over and figure out life with just me to worry about. I’m glad I got the chance to pick the pieces up and start again and finally see that I hadn’t been myself and that I really didn’t know who I was. This past year, being on my own and not having anyone else to worry about has been refreshing and I’ve learned more about myself then I realized was left to know. I enjoy writing (who knew?), sitting in a coffee shop off Tremont and people watching for hours, travelling for fun vs. just for work and seeing our world, painting my nails wacky colors just because I can, I love to cook, walking through the lights on Newbury St and in Fanheuil Hall during the winter, hiking, wine, and late nights with friends I didn’t know existed a year ago. These all seem like such small things, but for me they have been the big things this past year. The things I never knew I loved before because I had been working so hard to be what I thought someone else wanted me to be. If I had to have my heart broken to figure out those things, I’d do it again.
Watching a Heartbreak
I had a conversation with Lans one night about whether or not it’s harder to go through a heartbreak yourself or, knowing how it feels, watching someone you love go through it. I still haven’t really determined the answer to this as I think they are both awful in different ways. After going through my own saga a few months earlier, watching my little sister have to go through it was one of the most painful experiences for me. I will never forget the day she came home from college to find that her first love had a new girlfriend. The tears and the shaking soon followed and not just for her, for me too. I remember going into her room and not having any words to say. How do you tell your little sister it’s going to be alright, when you don’t even believe it in your own story yet. I sat next to her in an overstuffed chair and just held her as we both cried for an hour. I would have done anything in that moment to take away her pain. Anything to take the helplessness and the unworthy feeling I knew she had in her heart from her and stack it on top of mine. I could tell her everything happens for a reason, he can’t love her like he loved you, you’re meant for so much more than this, and a serious of other short quips I had been telling myself ever since I found out a new girl had taken my place. I also knew they wouldn’t mean a thing and that no matter how hard I tried to get her to see the light at the end of the tunnel, it just had to hurt for a bit. I have a theory that when something bad happens, everyone gets a day. Pitch your tantrums, cry your eyes out, drown yourself in the world’s biggest cup of froyo, whatever you have to do in that day to make yourself feel better. Then you wake up in the morning and you paint a smile on your face and take a step towards getting over it. After that day, you have to do everything you can to pull yourself together and be strong. With true grace and beauty as she always does, my sister did just that.
This is one that hits closer to home at the moment. What I mean when I say this is when a friend you care for deeply walks away for one reason or another, or even you yourself make the choice to take that step. Whether it be a fight, distance, what have you the bond and closeness deteriorates and fades into a memory. Re-reading that it seems kind of dramatic, but as I sit here and go over my recent break with a friend that’s how I really see it. The time we spent together, the chats we had, and even being able to look across the room and know he understood exactly what I was thinking – all a memory. Its rare you find friendships that will withstand pretty much anything, and when you do you have to hold on to them closely. The hard part is life is tough, and it wears on the weakest points in every relationship. Sometimes it wears on you so much the things that bind you break. Could I be any more elusive? You get the gist.