Four Months

The time seems to be passing quickly, it doesn’t feel like 4 months, but at the same time what I went through 4 months ago doesn’t always feel real.

At this point, he's completely vanished from my life. We've chosen to have absolutely no contact and as each day passes I wonder if we ever will be able to talk again. My memories of him are becoming vague, blurry images; sometimes I have trouble remembering his voice, and can't easily conquer up his mannerisms, his laugh, or smile.

It's strange because I really felt like leaving him was like standing on a cliff. I had no idea what was going to happen to me and in a way I thought the world would just stop. But it didn’t stop. Everything kept going. My job, my family, my friends (well the most important ones)... are all still here. But as some things keep going… unchanged, other things are definitely changing, becoming clearer. Focused.

Many people vanished from my life along with him. The people I had grown up with over the last 9 years -- gone to college with, attended parties with, birthdays, holidays, shows and most recently their weddings – all vanished with him. As if they didn’t exist either. Most of them, after the break-up, never checked to see if I was okay, never contacted me, and I will most likely never hear from, or see, any of them again. At first, this upset me… a bit too much in fact.

People with whom I had shared major life events with all of a sudden were gone from my life. I always knew they weren’t really my closest friends but it’s shocking once you realize that the people surrounding you viewed you as disposable and if that’s the case, would never be there for you when shit got real. Because let’s face it, shit did get real and only a very few stepped up. Instead of a group of people supporting and genuinely caring for one another, you have something else entirely. This isn’t what I wanted. That’s not the kind of person I am or the kinds of people I want in my life. I want a genuine support system around me. This is something that has become startlingly clear. When my life is in upheaval and I need someone, I need them to be there for me, no questions asked, it’s that simple.

And of all the people you would expect to be there for me, my partner of nine years, no longer exists.

In my mind I have these visions of two grown-ups coming together to discuss, with clarity and civility, what went wrong, why they hurt each other, and how they’ve processed the end of their relationship. I want my voice to be heard, to say what I really think of what we did to each other, I want us both to apologize, to be clear and concise and open to say anything. I want closure and an end. But I have no indication that this is possible.

I get advice from all over the place. It ranges from: “Never contact him ever again”, to “Get together for dinner with him” (which right now seems impossible since I've just learned some pretty disturbing shit about his recent actions and can’t imagine sitting in front of him and not jabbing a fork in his face), to “Go to him and verbally vomit all the things you feel and then walk away.”

I guess I have to move on with the knowledge that all I’m going to get from him, I already got. Maybe I’ll get the closure I envisioned someday, and maybe I won’t. But I’ll continue to work on myself and try to process what happened to us and why I made the choices I did. And most importantly, to not make the same mistakes.

To never again ignore myself. To undoubtedly listen to myself with a focus and intent so sharp it’s as if my life depends on it. Because it does.