It's curious, isn't it, how in the aftermath of the breakup of a relationship, there is a grief which is nearly the same as the grief at a death. Shock, denial, desperate sadness, horrific pain, numbness, loss—and eventually, with time, acceptance and moving on. The breakup of a relationship is compounded, in many cases, with the fact that it is still possible—or so one hopes, however improbably, to win them back. To make the case. To change everything that was wrong. To be sorry. For them to be sorry. For it somehow, someway, to work. To get back together and for everything to be all right.
It is a loss; in a sense, a death. The loss of a hope. The loss of a dream. The loss of a future. The loss of a friend. The loss of a lover. The loss of time enjoyed in another's company. The loss of all the little things that only lovers know. The loss of what most of us long for above all on earth, the affection and companionship of another similar to us yet opposite, the two shall become one.
That's what I'm going through right now. The relationship with my boyfriend ended swiftly and rather spectacularly nearly three weeks ago. Hence the lack of posting. Those who have gone through this, will know, that it tends to consume almost everything until there is nothing left.
With time, I've gained a healthier perspective. I knew then, and I know now, that it was the right thing to do. That no matter how much we loved each other, and I still love him, that it wouldn't work. That it is healthier for us to be apart. Much as I wish it wasn't so, and ask the futile "whys", that is the case.
I won't pretend it has been easy. There have been times of such darkness that I questioned my sanity, my ability to cope, to ever emerge. There may be such times again. But healthy doses of reality, with help from perceptive friends, and good resources on coping with breakup (try googling "relationship breakup" for some interesting results), have worked their way. Having God to depend on also helps immeasurably, though I won't pretend that I haven't also been angrier with him than at almost any other time in my life, and I also won't pretend it makes the pain any less. It doesn't, though it does at times as your soul breaks the cloud of this perspective and sees the sun of ever-constant love. There's no way around working through the agony that results from the rending of two hearts, the separation of yourself into the person-you-are and the-person-you-still-love-but-cannot-have.
So. Anyway. That's all that's on the plate for now. I can't come up with any amusing anecdotes, any interesting stories, no gutted cows or fish. Just the dark night of the soul. I'll emerge. I'm strong and this will make me stronger. It will have its good results. It already has. I wish I didn't have to go through the pain. But sometimes, that's the only thing that works.