The First Day of the Breakup
This is the first day of the breakup.
As to be expected, emotions are up, down, inside out. Excited by the possibilities opening up ahead of me; sad for the future we won’t have. Happy that I will have freedom to pursue these parts of me that I cannot yet name, devastated that this human won’t be with me to share the journey.
It’s been almost seven years since my last breakup, and that one was inevitable as soon as the relationship began. I found him and bounced into his arms because he said he would take care of me. But even in those mushy new stages of the relationship that involved unending steamy sex in my little hobbit house and dinners cooked in our undies, I knew in my gut it was not the right thing to do and that it would be quick. But the lease was up, my four best friends had all left town, student loans were coming due after deferment, and my job was dead end. So, I leapt. Because I could.
But this last time… it was supposed to be different. I had had time to be alone, I didn’t need to be taken care of. I had a solid job, a great network of friends. We took our time, we really learned to like each other. On paper we’re perfect; people used to say we were a ‘power couple’ because we’re both so smart, passionate about our work, and clearly, so deeply in love.
Until we weren’t. Was it the unending strain of a long-term relationship? His longest, my longest. We lived together, worked together, we played together, we fucked other people together, and separately. I moved for him. First for a few months, then for a full year. I moved away from my tribe, away from my 14 year old kitty, away from everything I knew. I let my life become his life, but we called it ours. My friends said that I was ‘brave’ or ‘lucky’ to have the opportunity, but what the trip did was take me further away from myself, and further down the path towards a relationship end.
Once we knew we were coming home, I packed up knowing that I would never come back. I left behind my winter coats, because I don’t ever want to live in a place that cold again. I left behind my costume collection, which I always did for him. I left behind the sex toys we used on him, because I knew I wouldn’t need them.
And yet, it wasn’t until last night that the path finally came to an end. We want to see each other happy. But we both feel like we’re not enough for the other. Me, too emotional and needy, him wanting to expand our love into greater spheres with other humans. Him feeling like I don’t fit his ideal of what a real life partner would, could, should be.
And so this is the first day.