“You’re going to cry again,” my mother said.
She, like everyone else I’ve seen in the last week, doesn’t believe that I really mean it when I say I’m okay.
No, I’m not okay. I’m great.
They keep waiting for the waterworks to start again, the way they did last Thursday when every inquiry into what was wrong started a lip quiver. Like all good things, a relationship that seemed to be going in a good direction ended. Perhaps, more abruptly than we would have liked, but sometimes, when it isn’t love, you just have to rip the bandaid off and get it over with.
Break-ups suck, even the good ones. Each has its own recovery path and time. Sometimes, there’s the shock of the loss to overcome. Every one is has its mourning period where you remember the good times and come to terms with the fact there won’t be any more. Then there comes the anger – at the ex, at the “system.” Next, you press the restart button and begin your make-over as you prepare yourself for the road ahead.
Sometimes you need a scotch to help things along. Scotch always tastes good after a break-up.
Sometimes I wish I was more emotional and less rational. Being emotional gets you out of work early and earns you pity drinks from friends. Rational gets you to the restart period faster — 3 days later and I’m already several ab workouts, a manicure, and a date with my stylist in. I don’t think I’m going to cry again.
This break-up came with an unusual stroke of clarity. I’ve decided that the hurt or pain following the end of relationship is the less daunting challenge to overcome – harder to conquer is the fear of the “what’s next.”
For every end of a significant relationship, a significant question lingers.
After the one that got away: Will I ever love someone that much again? So far, No.
After the one I left behind: Will someone ever love me as much as he did? So far, No.
After this last one: Will I ever be as comfortable being myself as I was with him? So far, TBD.
The feeling that something’s missing, or that something you had can’t be replicated with someone new — that’s what gets ya down and keeps you there for a while. Makes you swear off falling again. Or lowers your bar for the next person. Or adds another layer of bricks and mortar to the wall around your heart.
Endings are supposed to be new beginnings, but the truth is, new beginnings are hard. First dates are fun and easy. But getting to 4th, 5th and 6th dates — when you start the uphill slog towards trust and a committed relationship — that’s the most testing part of the cross-country marathon that is finding everlasting love.
For now, I’m on the bench for a while. It’s time to treat the wounds and seek the trainer. The course ahead is a long and tricky one. I need to be ready before I get back in the race.