Breaking Up is Hard to Do

20 Jun Breaking Up is Hard to Do

One year ago today was the end.

I hate that I can’t forget the damn date.

Tapping back into that day brings back wildly ugly emotions and pain, even still. It sure as hell does not feel like it’s been a year since we broke up.

Someone told me today, “Better is not a straight line,” to which I rolled my eyes – full on channeling my inner angsty teenager, an attitude, with me, is never in short supply. Sry not sry.

“Better is not a straight line.” What does that even mean!?

I repeated this aloud all day, the more I said it, the more it made sense…and the more perplexed Moose looked when I nearly shouted it out, Tourettes-style, looking straight at him. *Head tilt*

The first 6 months were a long, emotional, roller coaster ride. Trying to keep fingers and eyes away from our text conversation, his Instagram, Snap Story, WhatsApp convo, our Pinterest boards…okay I’m kidding we didn’t have a Pinterest board together but we DID have a Google Calendar that only I updated, go figure.

Detangling our 3 year long life together was far more challenging than I wanted it to be. You see: I was determined from the start to not feel anything for him. I wanted to cut my feelings off for him completely. I wanted to magically be ‘over it’ and go on to enjoy my summer and never see him ever again.

Oh, how that totally did not happen.

We saw each other many times the summer after we “broke up” (big air quotes here). Sometimes at a moment’s notice, sprinting through airports, fully accepting the craziness of the situation, buying the last seat on the plane. Thank the Lord for TSA Pre.

Sometimes planned, like the last time. Sleuthing around San Francisco, taking late night drives, pretending like we weren’t riding on a cliff’s edge.

Between these sporadic visits I tried in vain to get over him all at once. It was like clockwork, a few weeks would pass between visits and I’d be weak with heartache, dying to see him again. ‘And did he make it? Damn right, he’d be on the next flight, paying cash; first class – sitting next to Vanna White.’ (paid sponsorship – Nelly).

You get it, he’d be there for me. My personal Bandaid. Simultaneously blotting the hemorrhage on my broken heart whilst tearing open a new wound. I was not allowing myself to heal.

Side note – putting a Bandaid on a broken heart is stupid. Using your ex as said Bandaid for the very heart he broke is borderline insane behavior. Alas, that’s what I was doing.

It was incredibly unfair all around. I was determined it was over, he was determined to make it right.

I wish I could ‘be strong’ like my friends said, ‘know my worth’ like my mom said, or ‘manifest a new boyfriend’ which is a real suggestion one of my farther-out friends had.

My logical mind knew this was not the right thing for me, but all I wanted to do was forget the entire humiliation occurred and go back to how things were. Why couldn’t my heart catch up with reason? Nothing had changed in our relationship to make going back a valid option; there I was wanting it all over again anyway. I have never been more conflicted.

“Better is not a straight line.”

Things changed when he quit his job, sold all his possessions and packed a backpack to travel the world for a year. No more spontaneous visits to Austin. This was really it. True distance had to be the answer. This has to stick. I have no choice now, I have to move on. To find someone ‘better’ for me.

This was going to be ‘better’ for both of us, right?

Six months of visits to California just to sit on the beach, facing the loss, lots of hot yoga, too much time alone, bad dates, not enough family, fighting my feelings, owning those feelings, calling them by name, double clicking, repeating history, beating a dead horse and finally coming full circle to where I was a year ago.

Completely lost.

Better is not a straight line.

One trip around the sun later and I’m still experiencing novel feelings from this loss.

I’m sure some of you out there can relate and maybe are experiencing these feelings too; or maybe you’ve been feeling this way for a long, long time. I feel you.

Better is a not a straight line.

If point A = Break Up and point B = Better and they are not connected by a straight line then how do you get to point B? How do I find…better?

What I’ve come to learn (so far) is if ‘better’ HAD to be a line, then it’s definitely a twisted one. One that doubles back on itself, goes in winding circles…drifting, seemingly hopeless, directionless and wandering…but eventually it will stop.

The key to interpreting this line is perspective. Perspective gained over enough time away, distance from the relationship, self-reflection, support from your friends and family. With this perspective you can elevate yourself over the line. You’ll see the most amazing shape, a network of intricate, seemingly-never-ending, lines.

Lines that made up a maze.

For an entire year I’ve been lost in a maze and had no clue. When I had enough emotional bandwidth to reflect on where I am and where I came from that’s when I saw it.

Every dead end I met was a gentle reminder: this is not where your line stops.

The times I doubled back on a path I had already been down? Those were especially necessary parts of my journey so I would never wonder: what if? Now I know. I’ve exhausted every meandering lane, every off-course whim.

The only way to find my way to ‘better’ is by forging my own route, no matter how convoluted it might be compared to yours, the path is my own. I will come out on the other side of the maze; and when I do I hope to God something beautiful waits for me there. And I hope my heart is open to meet it.

Better is not a straight line. It is a wild growth of entangled, multi-pathed channels, full of beautiful dead ends. That at long last comes to rest on the other side.