It’s been about 7 weeks since I broke up with Mr. Jetsetter. It hasn’t been easy moving on. The hopeless romantic part of me had some hope left. But the more I think about how humiliating and painful this has been. The process of having to let go of the guy that I thought about spending the rest of my life with didn’t choose me and our relationship in the end. I’m a fighter. Not a quitter. The only time I may stop fighting for something is when I realize that it’s an impasse at an endgame.
As little girls some of us dream of Prince Charming and not Prince Harming. This hopeless romance becomes ingrained in our minds and maybe it’s a combination of our own fault, Disney, society, and fairy tales. When we don’t get our happy endings, we start to doubt ourselves. Are we good enough? Why can’t I have that happy ending? Unfortunately life isn’t always fair. Maybe there isn’t someone for everyone. Maybe I’m just being negative because I’m tired of investing in friendships, dating and relationships that end up going nowhere or end up breaking my heart.
They say that the grieving process is:
- Denial, numbness, shock
I just kept going back and forth through every step. It was hard to believe that it was over. I try to treat everyone like I want to be treated. So I never brought drama to the relationship. Yes, there were like maybe 3 instances when I was upset but I dealt with it and spoke up. I’m not the type to let things linger. I want to get them out in the open and deal with them as they happen. I was angry because I felt like the friendship I had with him meant a lot. Because of his actions in the end, it feels like it wasn’t. Like I was just a person to have company and have fun with. Someone to use and dispose of. I kept blaming myself trying to think if I pushed too hard for commitment. I don’t think I ever did though. I think I brought it up twice and then just went with the flow of things. I allowed us to be independent. I was not the crazy type to go and check in on him to make sure he was home or call to find out with whom he was with. The pain of being disrespected in the end and not being given a chance for an explanation really brought me down into sadness and despair. A dark depression that I let upset me and yo-yo my weight. Now I’m working out for me. Before, after, and while seeing him, I was always active. So it’s not like I’m going into the “work” on myself cliché. It’s just something one does. We get tired of complaining about our bodies and we do something about it. I made myself busy by volunteering at quite a few places. Giving to others has warmed my heart. It’s a form of love. Loving others and in return loving myself even if they don’t love me back. It’s okay with me. I’m giving people that need help my time and it warms my heart. So I think I’m going to go out and meet people. Just to put myself out there. I can’t sit and wait for someone to just pop into my life. I have to go out there and be seen. Who knows maybe I will have new friends. If not then it’s okay. I’m out here and alive. But always look for quality over quantity.