So I dated this guy for 1 year and 1 month and today I decided to break up with him. I've never been more sad. Or relieved. Or happy. Or regretful. Or jumbled. In fact, I think that's the word I can use to describe myself right now. Jumbled.
When we first started out it was great. Actually, he was supposed to be my first step in my "hoe phase." BUT! as life would have it, there was something totally different in store for me. We met one drunken night (for me) at a club through mutual friends. That's about all I can say because I remember nothing since it was the last day of school my first year teaching. Well, we hung out as "friends" for a month, then the following month it became more than that and a few days later we became official. Gosh, I can't even remember my (old?) anniversary... July... 7th? no... 8th, Kobe. Anyway, ever since then, he stayed every night.
When school started back up in late August, he suggested he get a key and we just make it so that he moved in, and we did. I didn't because I mean I knew the man for a whole two months, but a year later and there he was. In the beginning it was so much fun, but I think we moved too quickly. Already after a certain amount of time we were farting in front of one another, taking shits without spraying or lighting candles and not even bothering to look cute before bed. We even said I love you fast, but I saw nothing wrong with that.
Sometime over this summer, I realized that he wasn't truly the one. I tried to convince myself otherwise, fake happiness, think of the beautiful children we'd have together, but in the end I ended up with cannot be happy. So... I did it...
I told him his lack of drive drives me nuts. Our different beliefs is crazy, I din't tell him how I feel he is condescending because I did not want to make it about him. I also told him how I really hope in a month or two, he'd be willing to take me back. He knew I was breaking up with him even before I said it. I guess my tears were a dead giveaway.
What fucking KILLS me and hurts me to the core is how he will have happiness with another. There will be some woman who will be capable of loving the man I love and having his beautiful babies, and one day, holding his wrinkled aging hand. And I will not be that one or able to witness it. I guess I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. Be happy with him, but also find someone else to be happy with. That's not a reality. I have to accept what I've done and move on. No matter how hard it hurts.
I know I'll find someone else (although it took me 6 years to find him after my last "boyfriend") but that transition time will be hard as hell. And I'll miss him and want to tell him everything every step of the way through.
I didn't even grieve the end of my 12 year friendship as much as I'm grieving him. Maybe because he was there to help me through it. He's not a Facebook or social media person, so I'll never know what's going on in his life ever again.
It's like I fell that I'll never be happy again, but I know for a fact that I will. I have to be. Because my one is somewhere out there... hopefully.
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