This is something that's always on my mind on some level, and it's also right on the surface for me -- so much so that it can make me cry at the drop of a hat. I don't want to be accused of bad-mouthing him (though he may deserve it) or be ridiculed for holding on when I should let go. I know that I absolutely should, and I beat myself up a lot for not being over it. There's an old adage (or is it a quote from Sex and the City?) that says it takes half the time you were with someone to get over him. If that's true, I guess I have another six months to go. But I have a hard time putting an expiration date on grief at all. Everyone mourns in his or her own way, on his or her own time table. As much as I sometimes wish I could, I cannot simply make myself get over it and move on. I'm an impatient person by nature, and even though I know that time heals all wounds, there is a part of me that wishes I could have moved on as quickly as he did. But there is another part -- a much bigger part -- of me that realizes that I'd rather be deeply affected by our breakup than pretend our relationship never even existed.
That same friend told me that it was almost as if my ex committed a crime and walked away scot-free, while I'm stuck doing the time. I do feel as if I were framed sometimes. I was blamed for everything and he got to start a completely new life, without a second thought, without ever taking any responsibility, and without ever looking back. And I'm still not sure how to pick up the pieces. I know I am the only one who can decide to not be held prisoner by my circumstances, but that proves to be easier said than done. I fully acknowledge the mistakes I made, and I am constantly working on ways I can improve myself. But even with my faults, I still deserved an ending that was indicative of the special and loving relationship I always believed we had. Or, barring that, I deserved an ending that was at least respectful. I am fully aware that breakups are never pleasant. They are rarely mutual, and in this situation, ours was always going to be painful. But after three years, I deserved more than a cold-hearted phone call from 400 miles away. I deserved better than to be blocked on social media and erased from memory. I deserved some semblance of closure. Ultimately, I guess it's up to me to create my own closure. He essentially refused to provide that for me at the time, and I don't think I'll ever get it from him. I can't let anything he does (or doesn't do) continue to affect my life. And maybe that's one of the hardest things to come to terms with -- that our lives are no longer intertwined. I'm still mourning the future with him that I'll never have.
Thank you for listening.