Do you know that feeling when nothing seems to makes sense anymore? Where your life changes right before your eyes and falls, like sand, through your clenched fingers? It’s like somebody has your heart in a headlock and you cannot breathe.
And you cannot believe that this all just happened. You cannot believe that he, the man that has been there for your regardless, that had told you he wanted to marry you, just dumped you.
Picture it. It’s raining and you two just had dinner. You’re standing on the corner of 3rd and Market in front of the restaurant. He looks at you with his head cocked and his lips pursed. He is right on the cusp of shattering something and you know it, you just know. You turn your back on him to leave, trying desperately to keep what’s left of your dignity intact, but your stupid heels and the rain keep you from making a clean getaway.
There are so many unanswered questions. Why would he do this? Am I not good enough? What more could I have done?
You call your mother and your friends. They console you, telling you that you are perfect and smart and lovable and beautiful. You can get through this. You are a strong woman, they say. He is not worthy of you. Come on, let’s go out dancing…
You throw yourself into what’s left of your own life to forget about him. You work, you hang out with friends, you write, you go to the gym. But like a phantom limb, he is still there. You can still feel his presence in the apartment sometimes. Nights are the hardest, You have only the dog to hold onto.
And then the anger comes. It comes in enormous waves and you allow it to wash over you, relieved that there is no more room for the sadness. The anger is always on tap, is always attainable.
I am on day three. I have begged, groveled, called and texted. I do not want him back, per say. I want the good times back. I want what we once were back. I have yet to realize that you cannot fix what is already broken. You cannot control other people’s actions. You just have to gather yourself together, and, as Fitzgerald put it, “…beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”