Yes, I was dumped. Yes, it really fucking hurts. No, I don't regret it. Relationships can be silly and serious things. This is the more serious side, where one looks at the sum of everything and decides whether the risk was worth it or not.
The last fight we had, the one in which she broke up with me, she was more honest with me than ever before. The truth was never more clear to me, I don't really know why. The bottom line came to this: she did not want to be in a relationship with me because of some things I had felt/said and was continuing to say. In part, I was relieved. I knew she had a problem with things I had felt and said, but never had it been so clearly dealt with before. Finally, I heard in literal terms why she had such a problem with me. There were no grey areas, no conditionals, no flip-flops. The truth was out and I understood. And, as much as it pains me to say it, I enjoyed hearing it, even if it was difficult to do so. I consider what happened between us as a good relationship, even the hardest parts.
I hate speaking of these events in past tense. There were many good times. I really like that girl and I really care about her. How is she doing? Can it really be over? The air feels so thick. The end of a relationship is so much like the death of something. It feels so permanent, so lonely. C.S. Lewis spoke too soon when he said that grief felt so much like fear. I have felt fear, both deep and broad, and this is nothing like it. I am quite familiar with insecurity or anxiousness concerning some potential danger. Grief is nothing like a "flight or fight" response. There is nothing to fight, and nowhere to run.
In a sense, it is a relief for me. There is nothing to fight, and nowhere to run. My broken heart can travel with me, sit with me, read with me, or play with me. I can schedule my meetings with it, like on my bed at night or with my guitar in the afternoon. At other times, I can ignore it. Actually, being in a state of grief feels quite comfortable. Hopefully I will not get too comfortable. But I find myself not wanting to feel any other way except sad.
Toward the end of our last conversation, she knew I didn't agree that we should be broken up. She wanted to know why I disagreed. I could hardly say. What do you tell someone who has expressed such a strong dislike of your behavior and feelings? I could only really tell her that I understood why she no longer wanted a relationship, and I simply repeated back to her what she told me about it, hardly any of which I believed to be true about myself. I felt like I was lying. It is difficult to tell someone they are wrong about you when they feel so strongly about how your actions affected them, especially in a relationship. Past hurts always take priority over present knowledge. And the only good thing I could manage to do was to understand and empathize.
But then again, I want to be understood also. I don't want to be controlling, feared, or fought with. I don't want to be with someone whom I continuously hurt without knowing it. If I'm being a jerk, then I'm wrong. But if I'm talking about feeling insecure or anxious, I just want to be listened to. I enjoy people who listen to me with validation. I don't want to be changed or others to change for me. I want to be treated as acceptable, just as I am, as I want to treat others. But this is difficult to negotiate in relationships. There is a fine line between telling someone the truth of how you feel in the context of each other and starting a fight with accusations and criticism. We just couldn't manage to communicate well.
Anyway, I was happy before her. This simple grief feels honest and clean, wholesome even, a slow return to a more familiar life. Time to give the rejected ego a rest, to let things take their natural course. I always enjoyed the "otherness" between us, now I will just learn to appreciate it further. The risk was worth it for all of the good times and the bad, even this.
"Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Whoever wrote that, was brilliant.
