A year and a half ago, I was in that deep pit of despair known as a break up. It was heart wrenching and tragic and depressing and scary and probably 50+ other unpleasant emotions I’m not going to list off right now. I’m sure you get it, though.
It was my first time falling in love and in return, I got my first real heartbreak. It hurt. Bad.
I think back on that 24-year-old girl sobbing in her bed, her car, the bathroom at work… everywhere really. She was constantly pleading with someone or something that wasn’t there to make the pain go away. She wanted so desperately to hide, to run away, to escape everything because it all reminded her of him. Every place had a memory, every song sang his name, and with every nostalgia-inducing moment came another fist that punched her in her already black-and-blue gut.
It seemed as if the universe was using her heart as its personal punching bag, all the while pointing and laughing: “Ha-ha! You don’t have this anymore!”
I wish now that I could hug this girl and tell her “You are going to be okay. I promise. Your life is going to get really cool when this is over.” Other people did indeed tell me these things, but was I going to listen to them? Of course not. I was IN LOVE, he was THE ONE, and no one else was going to father my future children but him.
I tried every possible means I could think of to get him back. I’d never actually tried to “get someone back” before so you can imagine the mistakes I made. I cried, I begged, I showed up at his house unannounced, I Googled it (yes, I just admitted that). I had a pregnancy scare, but that happened because for the better part of three months the only thing I had an appetite for were coffee and cigarettes. I said I wanted to make him dinner when, in reality, cooking stresses me the eff out.
I threw myself at him and told him I needed to have sex with him, because for some reason when your lover doesn’t want you anymore, you become hornier than ever. A week ago, when he was still your boyfriend, you couldn’t even remember why you were attracted to him. Go figure that one out. I stood outside of my car and blared “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel at him because I obviously think I am as impressive as Jon Cusack. I guess I’m not because it didn’t work. Maybe if I had had an actual boom box. Rain might have helped too. Oh well.
The conclusion to this story is that he didn’t want to get back together. After a two and a half year “I think I’m going to marry you” relationship, it didn’t even end with us being friends. It’s not so much that he wanted it that way, but I realize now that being completely cut off from him is what I needed. It had to end badly so that I knew it was 100% over. Done-zo.
And now, over eighteen months later, I really kind of wish I could say thank you to him for not taking me back. Sure, I was in massive amounts of emotional pain, but the reality is that after trudging through the heartbreak, I grew infinitely stronger and wiser. I like myself 100x more now than I ever did when I was in that relationship.
A few months ago my friend told me “You are so much more fun now!” And she’s right. In the last year, I’ve been more places, met more people, and become more of the person I’ve always wanted to be than ever before. I’m pursuing scary and exciting new things. My life is kind of cool. I would have never done any of it if he’d taken me back.
So, if there are any young women out there feeling like their world is ending because your boyfriend doesn’t want you anymore, well, this is me encouraging you to think of it as a blessing. You may get back together, you may not – I don’t know. But I do know how scary the uncertainty of a future you thought you had all figured out is.
The pain will subside. You will be okay. And when you arrive on the other side, your life is going to get really cool- I promise.
By Kaycee Snowden