Saturday, February 26, 2011


I can't breathe and my heart feels like it is going to burst. I'm a blubbering mess who can't catch her breath; breathing is probably overrated, anyway.  It's one o'clock in the afternoon and I'm still in my pajamas, sitting on my bed surrounded by balled up, snotty bits of toilet paper.  It really isn't a pretty picture.  I'll have moments where I think I'm ok, I'll stop crying, I'll be able to take a deep breath, calm myself...but it only takes a split second of me remembering something, some insignificant little thing, and I'm right where I began.  Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle--it suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key.  It's not an act of bitterness.  It's an act if self-preservation, but this is only day one.  I should allow myself to feel this.  Eventually, I'll move on to thinking of things that were causing frustration,  that I thought I couldn't live with, to try to make myself better.  Even that may not work, because the sweet loving memories that will stab at my heart and make my eyes swell far outnumber the negative ones.  We talked this morning about the fact that what makes this even more sad is the fact that there is still love there.  It's not a bad breakup, with fighting, arguments, or ill will.  Something just wasn't right.  I couldn't look him in the eye last night and honestly tell him that this relationship was what I wanted.  I tried to hang on, but I ended up forcing it and made things worse.  Maybe he's right and one day, 6 months from now, I'll tell him that I was wrong and that I want to come back. 

For today, I'm glad I have a bottle of wine in my fridge.  I don't want to be the sad girl with the puffy eyes wandering around the grocery store, lost, scanning the aisles for something to numb the pain.  There is something so cliche about eating ice cream after a break up, but oddly enough, the thought had crossed my mind.  I have also just discovered my need for more toilet paper.  I guess I should have checked my supply before I started crying all over the place.  

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