I figured a sad, twangy Ryan Adams would be the most appropriate for this post, though I'm finding myself relating to many a heartbreak song. My two year history with Peter has officially changed status. We've broken up. I still can't make myself change my facebook status as ridiculous that may sound. Although, to anyone who has gone through a painful breakup, I'm sure you can relate. This one is so different for me and actually caught me off guard. At the beginning, I was so terrified that he'd suddenly change his mind, call it off seemingly out of nowhere, and the rug would be pulled from under me. Well, the rug was pulled from under me but by my feelings of heartbreak over relief.
On the heels of his decision to move to Atlanta to be with me, fear and doubt, two extremely destructive things, began to creep in. I'd been fretting for the last few weeks that maybe we just couldn't relate on some very fundamental levels and it seemed that the easiest source of relief would be to end it. Every other break up for me has been a relief. I was completely done and moved on almost immediately. This one is not so. I don't understand how I can love someone and get along superbly until I return to my daily responsibilities. Perhaps in a few weeks when things sink in and I can start focusing my energies where I need to, I'll feel some release of pressure, but right now all I feel is lonely and sad.
I've been writing him letters. I'm not sure that I'll send them. His birthday is tomorrow. I feel I've failed. I have never had such ambivalence upon deciding to end a relationship. You see, he came here this past weekend and we went on a camping trip. I was consciously open to reconnecting and that's exactly what happened. We spent two nights in the mountains and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Somehow, something happens when we're out of the woods and into daily life. Maybe it's that he so strongly reflects my shadow self:
"According to [Carl] Jung, the shadow, in being instinctive and irrational, is prone to project: turning a personal inferiority into a perceived .. deficiency in someone else."
I think there are basic differences in our perspectives that make living daily life together a struggle and I have no way to know whether we could get past them if I didn't unintentionally sabotage (oxymoron, I know) our relationship by turning into a neurotic control freak (exaggerating a little here) where he couldn't do anything right by my standards. I have seen some ugly parts of myself and not only do I still have this work to do on myself - in or out of the relationship - but I feel so empty on top of it. Perhaps that's a small price to pay for clarity over confusion. At least now I'm only troubled rather than troubled and indecisive.
We had a really special, unique, magical, adventurous, amazing run of it for a while. I have my theories on what went wrong and what changed, but I can't force myself to grow as a person any faster than I am able and I guess I'm just going to have to be okay with that. I have a feeling that I'm also going to have to be okay with the fact that this appears to be much more difficult for me to let go of than it is for him. At least that's the way it appears to me. I'm used to being the one who gets over it easily; but what is pride when your heart is broken?
I have nothing more to say.
I have endless things to say.
It's a hard way to fall.
This ain't the easy way down.
It's a hard thing to love anyone, anyhow.