The title of ex-boyfriend doesn’t quite seem to fit.
It would be like calling the manager of the local Chili’s a CEO. Ex-boyfriend is too prestigious. I have racked my brain to find an appropriate designation for your current place in my life. At first I came up with Dick Bag. But then I realized I like penis and that having a bag of dicks—which I pretty much own due to my vibrator collection—is not a bad thing.
Then I just kept screaming, mother f*cker! About the seventh time it came out of my mouth, I realized I don’t want you anywhere near my family ever again. Feeling guilty for visualizing you doing my mother, I decided to go the sophisticated route. You are clearly emotionally unavailable.
This title immediately doubled back and left me thinking: “Shit, that means I’m emotionally damaged if I dated an emotionally unavailable, dick bag, mother f*cker like you.” So, in the face of this heart-wrenching, life-altering, whiskey-drinking, deciding-who-gets-the-dog phase, I have decided the best thing to do is deem you a part of my past.
And move forward. I’m just not sure how.
I got off work last night around six and I am so accustomed to driving to your house, I found myself turning into your neighborhood before I realized what I was doing. Okay, that is not totally true. I could have passed the exit that takes me across the overpass, past the high-school, and two left turns later, onto your block.
But, I didn’t.
That stupid song we always used to make fun of came on the radio. Then I remembered you still have, like, ten of my old CDs and you still have my iPod. Okay, that is only partially true. I found my iPod in my car console. Your gym card is still there too. The point is, yes you did see my car drive past your place. Yes, I wanted to get out and knock on your door and ask you all sorts of crazy questions.
But, I didn’t.
Instead, I went home, got on Facebook, saw you deleted me as a friend, called one of my friends who is still your Facebook friend and asked her to spy on your page. I ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while I waited for her to call back.
She said she didn’t see anything. You had added a few friends, but they were all guys. Your profile picture was the same. After I got off of the phone with her, I wanted to call you. I wanted to text you. Okay, I did text you—twice. You never got back to me. A week has gone by. I have driven straight home after work. I’ve started to work out again. I haven’t texted.
But, I still don’t understand how—after all this time together—we ended up here. I’m so frustrated and confused by the stupid fact I still love you. And, by the way, hate you. If I join an online dating service, maybe I will just stop thinking about you.
I went on a date with a guy I met online. He was alright looking, but all I could do was think about you. After the date was over, I went home and deleted my account. It took me a while to fall asleep and in the morning, after a night of dreaming about you, I woke up wondering if we could get back together? Maybe we could be friends again? Maybe we could just have sex?
I miss you.
Shit, it has been over a month and I haven’t heard anything from you. I have heard about you from friends. They mostly say, “He’s busy.”
You know what, I’m busy too! I have a whole career to develop. I’m going to start taking yoga classes, kick-boxing classes and I’m starting a raw food diet. You know what? I’m going to start a blog about how great it is to be single. In fact, I’m glad we broke up. It has given me a chance to discover what really matters to me.
You texted back and said, “My phone has been acting weird and I just got your texts.”
Now what do I do?
Breaking-up is not easy to do. That’s a given. But, it is difficult for many reasons. The first is that every expectation created, the very foundation of your daily life, comes to a maddening, screeching end. Your life-path shifts and in the middle of the marathon, you twist your ankle. Further, all the time you have invested gets bought out by rejection.
Then, hours, upon days, upon years are spent negotiating with rejection. I’m not sure there is such a thing as moving on. Rather, a better deal gets put on the table, or you create a better deal for yourself. You mortgage your life experience for a new trajectory. You drop the transmission in second gear and head through emotionally rough terrain.
Until you invite a new deal into your life, you will be stuck in negotiations. Maybe you have been through several break-ups and you know how to handle yourself until you feel better. Maybe you are going through your first significant separation. Whatever the scenario is, know this: you may be single again but you don’t have to be alone.
Rebekah McClaskey is the creator of Break-up Rehab and the founder of Transform Now Counseling. She graduated with her Master’s in Counseling from Naropa University in the spring of 2011. Rebekah has four years experience in the field of psychology and she specializes in transforming suffering into victory. In other words, she is skilled at assisting you in answering the question, “Now what do I do?” You can learn more about Rebekah and about Break-up Rehab at transformnowcounseling.com. And you can find Rebekah on her FB page, Love Improv.
Editor: Lori Lothian
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