It’s not really over till you’ve dragged both you and him through the mud…
DAY 2
Typically you’d think that if you were going to start a blog, it’d start with day one. However, day one of my breakup was spent sobbing in the shower and playing Queen’s “Somebody to Love” over and over in my car so I was a bit incapacitated, needless to say. Technically, this is really like day 8 since the previous week was spent fervently denying this breakup was actually happening in the first place. Regardless. Since stalking and being in a relationship by yourself is generally frowned upon and yes, quite pathetic, I guess I have no choice but to try to find a way to move on.
About a week ago, my year and a half (a very looonnngg year and a half, I might add) relationship to the guy I was convinced would father our two very adorable and highly intelligent children ended. Yesterday, I finally accepted this fact. I would love to say that our time together was pure and blissful heaven on Earth, but that would be a lie. In reality, it was more a mixture of heaven and hell with hell increasingly butting into heaven’s time as the months progressed. Only two people with as dysfunctional childhoods as our own could have possibly held on as long as we did. But throughout it all, this man became my advice giver, my confidante, my music suggester, candy supplier, my biggest critic, and my biggest supporter. Every movie I saw in the last year, I saw with him. He was my dinner date and an ear I could turn to. I learned to love Los Angeles with him. Through the good and the bad times, he became my best friend. And I miss him like hell.
I know I’m not alone here. We’ve all been in love and lost love and said we were never going to fall in love again then did it anyways. We play the cycle out over and over everyday. But no matter how many times we do it, breaking up sucks. Plain and simple. So I’m going to follow the best advice I’ve ever been given: If something is too painful, find a way to laugh about it. I hope you can laugh with me.
