I think we’ve all had our heart broken in one way or another. My heart broke when a close friend committed suicide. My heart broke a little every time I’ve ended a relationship. My heart broke irreparably when my family chose my ex-husband over me. But I had never been in that big, cant-breathe-can’t-eat love. At 34 years old I had decided that being ‘in love’ was a fairytale. Or, if it did exist, it wasn’t meant for me. I was destined for that halfway love, where you love them, tolerate them, and settle for mediocrity.
Then I fell in love. It was a long process and I didn’t realise what had happened until it was too late to drag myself out of it. Long story short, after an incredible relationship with someone I adored, that I loved in spite of and because of
his flaws and follies, and the only man I’ve ever thought I could have children with- he wasn’t ‘in love’ with me
Cue: Anguish and wailing, gnashing of teeth. Well, kinda. Almost a month later, it’s still daily tears and an ache in my heart so deep it physically hurts. The routines we had, the secrets we shared, the delicate and deep intimacy. Gone. It hurts in a way I can’t even begin to explain.
So, I can’t be here. I see his car everywhere. I scan crowds for him. Everywhere I look, memories (this is a little bit tongue-in-cheek).
Every time, for a second, I forget, then I remember and my heart drops into my stomach, my throat tightens, and it’s fresh, raw, the wound seething with salt. It’s agony. It actually takes my breath away. I think the other side of this is that I’ve never been in love before and I believe I’ll never find love like that again. I don’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve him. But I can’t do mediocrity any more so I’ve resigned myself to being single forever.
I know this is like the hangover where you curse yourself and promise that you’ll never drink again. But for now I truly believe this is it. I think I’d rather be single than feel like this ever again. Fuck that ‘it is better to have loved and lost than never lost at all’ bullshit. Nope, this sucks, I’m done, I’m out, I’m moving to India.
Run Away and Start a New Life
It sometimes feels like I’m cheating. Like, life has just gotten too hard and I’ve given up. Other times, I feel like I’m being brave, that I know I can’t carry on like this, so I’m packing up my life and starting again. I’m not sure which is true.