There comes a point in every relationship where you think–this is it; this is my person. But when that person recoils from you– telling you that he doesn’t want to see you anymore, it should kill you on the spot. In fact, the option of having the universe swallow you whole seems like a great idea.
But the universe does not listen. Losing your best friend, lover, and partner in life like that is betrayal like none other; the shock of it all drowns you in sadness and overwhelms you to the point you forget how to do the simplest of things. Did I brush my teeth today? A habit I’ve had since I was 2 becomes as difficult to remember as multivariable calculus. When was the last time I washed my hair? Who knows? Heartbreak makes life difficult to soldier on.
But the thing is, heart break doesn’t kill you; there may be times you wish you were dead, or even feel as if you are dead. But you are, in medical terms, still very much alive. Heart beating rhythmically, blood circulating regularly. Yep, still alive. Emotionally raw, empty, and exposed. Vulnerable to the nth degree. And yet, still expected to function normally. Life goes on. But how do you heal a broken heart. How do you even begin to recover from your life being turned upside down and plunged into a darkness so dark you think you’ve entered a black hole? How do you go to work and carry on with life?
I can barely remember the evening of and the day after my heart was smashed to bits. In the grand scheme of things, it hasn’t been that long, but the brain in a tricky thing. It doesn’t always record factual events– and honestly that’s for the best. Who really wants to remember the worst times of your life?
Three days after my heart was shattered into a million pieces, I was sitting in a classroom. Or at least the outer shell of me was sitting in a classroom, or as I like to say–my ghost was there. I honestly don’t remember anything that happened over those next 48 hours. All I could think was ‘how can I be expected to carry on? Can’t you tell I’m dying inside’. Sometimes–while sitting on the back row–water droplets escaped my eyes. It’s not like I could focus on anything anyway. I tried my best not to interrupt class with sobs. I think I succeeded, but I also succeeded at not making any friends. After all, who wants to be friends with someone who cries through entire lectures?
Time moves forward and minutes turn to hours and hours into days. Some time later, you realize that the heartbreak is not all consuming, that there is time for other things. I threw myself into learning mode. Some days I couldn’t concentrate to save my life; while other days my brain was fully engaged learning new things. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. Sometimes entire days would pass without a thought of him. I never thought that would be possible. Some days are still really hard; anniversaries and birthdays especially. Most days are better. Some days are even great. 100 days after having my heart ripped to shreds, I feel like I’m on the mend.
I still won’t drive down the street where he lives. Or visit the grocery store in that neighborhood. I know one day our paths will cross again. I no longer live in fear of that day, but approach it with curiosity. I’m healing. I’m eating (somewhat) better, and working out (more than before). I’m trying to be the best me possible so that when I meet another someone in the future, I don’t make him a hostage to my past. That part is not easy and some days I’m am completely over self-examination, but one day at a time, one hour at a time, I’m healing.