Still happen. I had a dream the other night where my ex-fiance and his friends were laughing at me for being so hysterically upset. I clearly am not over it.
I’ve had a few recent inquiries asking where I am or why I stopped posting. Here’s the answer:
It’s tough. Writing about such raw emotions was and (still is) difficult. During the first few years, I wasn’t in a place to be able to handle my feelings. Every time I posted, it took me to a sad, dark and lonely place. I’ve been in therapy quite a few times over the past few years (which I highly recommend). I’ve blamed myself for a lot of the broken engagement and I’ve blamed myself for not being able to work things out in my relationships over the past few years. To be honest, it’s still difficult looking back at pictures of us and reminisicing with old friends about times back then. Even today, my broken engagement still affects me. However, the pain seems to be a little more buried deep inside of me. Evidently, it still shows itself in my dreams from time to time.
An important thing to remember is: be kind to your significant other. If you have to break things off, remember that you did love him or her at one point in time.
My exfiance forgot about that when he broke things off with me. I have a vivid recollection of him laughing at me when I was crying hysterically that I couldn’t believe we were over (and moreso, that he moved his stuff out behind my back when I was out of town). He forgot that, at one point, he did love me. And to this today (clearly), I’m still affected by his utter disrespect for my feelings as indicated by my dream. I struggle, now, with trust and commitment. But, never fear, every day is a step towards forgiving and forgetting. Maybe.
Until next time. . .
I don’t know. I think we need each other. I keep getting messages from readers that tell me that they are going through the same thing. When my engagement initially ended, I had nowhere to turn. I Googled “broken engagements” and what I was supposed to do and hoped that there was someone…please, someone, somewhere that had gone through the same thing. But…there was nothing to be found. I only saw articles discussing whether you should return the ring or what to do about out-of-town guests. There was nothing telling ME that I would be okay or that I would hurt or that it would take awhile to be okay. Nothing.
There. Was. Nothing.
However, through word of mouth, I learned a broken engagement was commonplace. It happens much more frequently than we like to think about. I was just a normal statistic. Huh? What happened to love happily ever after?
And that is why I feel I need to share my story or (if I can even share that), at least, my endeavors to be okay with you.
Ha. I mean. I’m starting this writing over again. I swear, sometimes, it just gets too tough and too deep to even really put into writing what I’ve been through, what I’m going through, and what I even expect to happen. I wish I was able to put into words what I was going through right when I was in the midst of the entire break up so that I can tell people what to expect, where to sell your wedding dress and what to do with your ring. But, nope-not even a close possiblity. I DID get rid of those and I DID move on, but my heart is still a mess. I probably am so pathetic for still writing about my issues. However: I’m still here and I’m still dealing with the break up.
Want to know why? I had a dream the other night that I was on an island as a bridesmaid for one of my friends. After my friend’s wedding was over with, I ran into my ex and his new fiance who were getting married on the very same island… because HE IS ENGAGED. And he will be getting married to someone else. Probably in the next year to someone that is not me. And I’m still single. And still me. With noone in the near future. And I need to figure out a way to be okay with that.
2 Years Ago. It happened. He said good bye to our lives together. I thought I was okay. I still do. Until I was in the hair salon today and she brought it up. All she asked was “how long has it been?” and BOOM. There it was, in my face, that HOLY CRAP, my fiance left me 2 years ago to the day. I still have no one. I still have yet to find anyone that appreciates me for me. Great. Thank you, two years. You’ve done nothing for me. I’m still sad. I still feel the need to drown this day in a lot of wine bottles. Thanks. I’m still sad. Neat.
I want to post on a more regular basis. But I can’t. Every single post is tough. Every little bit of me hurts when I write the slightest thing. And it has been 2 years which makes it even worse. I have so much more to say and so much more to get off my chest but it really takes a lot out of me. It literally is like having the flu…which is gross…I know…but seriously it’s like throwing up and not having anything left to offer. Like laying on the bathroom floor and not being able to move. No energy. No anything.
I mean, it’s good that I’m writing, talking, cleansing, etc. However, nothing will change the fact that I had my heart broken. Nothing will ever change the fact that I thought my life was planned out. My girlfriend who recently got engaged said to me: “I get it now. I don’t know what I would do if my fiance called everything off. I don’t know how you are even dealing with it.” She has been friends with me since The Break Up. And now, just now…she understands. Maybe. I mean, you can’t really explain the heartache and the pain that IS a broken engagement.
How do you recover? I don’t know. I don’t think you do. I think it becomes a part of you. It has to make you a stronger person. It certainly has given me a lot of insight into who I am and what I am all about. I think. I don’t even know.
I just hurt. And I miss him. He was my best friend. And he left me. He betrayed me. And I don’t know how to be okay with that.
So. I was just in Vegas this past weekend. And it brought up a bunch of memories. Irritatingly sad memories of my ex.
My birthday is September 19. I’ve never ever been a big birthday person. But now I just can’t stand it. It just so happens that every year around that date there is a lacrosse tournament in Vegas. My ex used to play lacrosse in college and he still does today (solely recreational). It’s a great excuse to get the boys together and do some male bonding, which is fabulous. I have no problems letting boys be boys because I treasure my girl time. My ex never used to hear a peep from me when it came to that. Except for this Vegas thing, and here’s why:
The first year we were together, he wanted to go to Vegas for one last hurrah before all of them got deployed. I had no problem with it. After all, how was I supposed to tell a soldier that I wanted him to be there with ME? How could I be the selfish one when he was giving up more than a year of his life to a war zone? So I sat in our apartment, alone, braving tornado warnings, and watching girl movies. (I had just moved down to Savannah, GA and didn’t have very many friends at that time).
The second, third and fourth years, he was deployed. I never celebrated my birthday while he was gone. I was too sad that he wasn’t around. All I wanted was to go out on a date for my birthday…and I said it every year. And he promised me that once he was home, he would take me on a date for my birthday. I couldn’t blame him then. He couldn’t help that he was deployed.
And then came the fifth year. He was finally not deployed. He was out of the Army. And what did he do? He went to Vegas. What was his excuse? He hadn’t been in a bunch of years and he wanted to get back together with the boys. What did I do? I cried. It was sad. It still is sad. It still hurts me to the core that is what he chose to do. I mean, I had been waiting to celebrate my birthday with him for 5 years. Was it too much to ask that he spend it with me? We were engaged at that time, too. But I let him go. Again, how was I to say no to a soldier who had lost 3 years of his Vegas trip? But then, how could he not appreciate me enough to know that going on a date on my birthday with the love of my life?
I should have known the answer. Nine months later, he broke up with me. And I thought, maybe just maybe, that on my 30th birthday, he would have the decency to say a nice word. But, no. We were broken up. He could have cared less.
And now, my birthday still sucks every year. I still get sad. I still remember the hurt of him not being around. And being in Vegas just reminded me of that. I wonder if I will ever forgive and forget. And maybe, just maybe, be on a date with a fabulous new boy that cares about me? Maybe?
It was Friday. I stayed home from work to “take care of my affairs.” And by that…I called my aunt to tell her what had happened. I love her. I’ve always looked up to her. I aspire to be her. She is an amazingly strong - comfortable in her own skin -woman with a gorgeous husband and two beautiful kids. Keep in mind that I wasn’t really that close with her prior to this event. Yeah, I loved her. She was family and she was part of my wedding planning but up until then, we really weren’t that connected. But I called her. Something in me knew I needed her. And I cried. and cried. and talked. and analyzed. One question she had for me: “Is there another girl?!” My response: No. Absolutely not. I believe him. He/We are just done.
Note: This would later come to be true. There WAS another girl.
Anyways, she advised me that I was going to be okay. That I was a tough girl and this entire experience was going to make me stronger. I was literally incapable of thinking of the future or what we were supposed to do with our stuff. I just sat there, crying, while she talked. I remember her telling me that it was absolutely okay for me to insist on keeping everything that we had accumulated together as a couple. I mean, I had picked out our couches, our coffee table, end tables, vases, candles, photo frames, etc, etc. Hours upon hours had been spent on putting together the perfect room. And the same with the kitchen. And the bedrooms. And our bathrooms. All of it had me written over it. Everything was MY taste. Her words: It’s his decision to leave you and if he chose to say goodbye…he needs to say goodbye to it all. This advice stuck with me through the following weeks. And her words proved to be my rock with all of the nonsense that followed.
Keep in mind. I was still wearing my ring. 2 days after he walked out the door from me. I still could not believe what I had imagined my life to be…was no longer going to be my life. Our first home. Our little babies. Christmases. Holidays. Growing old together. It was just not going to happen. Ugh. God. Seriously. I don’t even know if I will ever forget that feeling. It was, as if, the rug had been taken out from under me. Nothing was what it was supposed to be. I was 29 years old. How was I supposed to turn 30 with no wedding, no husband, and no future!?
May 2008. Our Engagement Photo Session. And I thought it was love.
Wow. I can’t explain what actually writing this stuff out is doing to me. It’s been almost 2 years since our break up. And I haven’t dealt with it at all.
What I did do…was pack up everything (6 months later), quit my posh attorney job (with no replacement job lined up), and moved 3000 miles away from Jacksonville, Florida to Los Angeles, California to start over. I made new friends, found a new apartment, got a job and began “living life” (and on all accounts, it really looked like I have been living it up). But I really haven’t. I’ve been going through the motions and pretending everything is fine. But it’s not. I’m hurt. I got hurt. I still hurt.
Writing the last few posts has brought me back to that time period with the pain and the feelings that I simply covered up, pushed away into a small corner of my brain and tried to act “normal”. But seriously, when someone that you’ve known for almost 15 years, one that you’ve been intimate with for 5 1/2 years, walks out of your life NEVER to speak to you again…it’s almost like a death. I just don’t know what I did to deserve that. How can he just not talk to me after all those years?
It makes me wonder if writing all of this out is going to help. I woke up this morning and it felt like I was back in Jacksonville, waking up by myself, ALONE, for the very first time, all over again. And sad. And with my heart hurting. And wanting to cry. In fact, I AM crying.
Ugh. God. And it makes me feel so weak. I mean, he’s over it. He moved on within 2 weeks… and was out in public with his new girlfriend. And by all accounts, I think they are still together. And I’m single. I can’t even look a guy in the face that insinuates a relationship…let alone even venture down the lines of romantics. When, WHEN, will I feel okay?
I woke up early. In my bed…and…got ready for work. Yeah, I know. Weird, right? No tears. No nothing. I just functioned. I brushed my teeth, I straightened my hair and wore my best suit. It was like any other day…except for the fact that he wasn’t there.
For me, there was not an inkling of a thought in my mind that I should call in to work. [In fact, it was imperative that I argue a case later that morning. No one else in my law firm was familiar with the particular facts/arguments for that hearing.] I drove the 10 minutes down the road to the office in a tall skyscraper overlooking the river and the rest of the city. SIDE NOTE…we had moved closer to the city (away from all of our friends at the beach) because HE had wanted to). I remember thinking what awful timing it was that he break up with me the night before such a big hearing. Jerk.
I parked my car, walked into the building and grabbed some coffee before I ran smack dab into another associate who immediately knew something was up. And there I was, sniffling away, snot flying out of my nose, trying to maintain some form of composure. The last thing I wanted was everyone in the office giving me “pity” looks. I threw the next few hours into preparation for my hearing – followed up on cases, outlined my arguments and prepared for the worst. On top of it all, this particular argument was going to be a potential loss for us. The law was not entirely on our client’s side. I walked to the hearing in a daze with a supervising partner (who had been filled in on the situation). She was there to make sure I didn’t suffer a major breakdown on the record in front of a judge. Lo and behold, my arguments were stellar. I blew the other attorneys out of the water and even got a compliment from the judge himself. (Come to find out, later on, I won that hearing!)
Fast forward, another hour or so…all of the lawyers at our firm, including myself, left the office early for “happy hour”, but really, it was to discuss the breakup outside of the presence of the staff. The only thing I wanted to do was curl up in a ball, throw a blanket over my head and make it all go away. I had to relive the break up all over again. I was questioned heavily as to what I did wrong. What I thought his problem was. What his reasons were. Why he did it. Was there another girl. Was I cheating on him. I mean….I had no clue what to say, how to act or even how to process my life at that moment.
It literally became an out of body experience. There were so many thoughts running through my head. What were we going to do with the new condo? I couldn’t afford it. How were we going to split up all of our stuff? I was keeping all of it. After all, I had picked out everything. Where was he? Probably at our friend’s house. (Little did I know, he was probably shacking up with his new girl). OMG. I needed to cancel everything for our wedding.Could we get our deposits back? How was I supposed to let people know that we were over? I was supposed to go to a bridal shower thrown by his family in a week! He better tell them. I hoped that not a lot of planning had gone into it. I needed to call all 12 of my bridesmaids. All of my bridesmaids had ordered and paid for their dresses already. What about people who had made travel plans already? The gossip was going to be insane in my small town. I could just imagine. And crap, my siblings? My brothers were best friends with his brothers. Great. My ring? I was still wearing it. Need to take it off. Why is this happening to me?
I stumbled drunkenly out of that happy hour, filled with at least 3 glasses of wine and advised my boss that I would be taking the next day off (Friday) to deal with my life. Luckily, he understood. (And I think he was impressed that I had shown up, in spite of it all, to argue an important hearing).
When I got home that night, the very first of our wedding gifts had arrived. Another sucker punch to the gut. And a lot more tears.