Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Quixotic Consequences

  
I'm hoping this will be the last woe-is-me post for awhile, but at the moment I still need to vent and try to process my emotions into something more manageable than the swirling black cloud of shit that's currently enveloping me. Yes, I know I'm melodramatic and overly-sensitive and things affect me more than I should allow them. But that's who I am, and I can't change it, I can only try to cope with it. So. The end finally came last night, and while I saw it coming, I wasn't prepared for it in any way and spent over two hours begging him to change his mind. Begging. Literally begging someone to be with me who clearly does not want to be with me. It feels really good if you've never tried it. Nothing I said, no amount of tears, nothing got through at all. He hadn't come over to "talk", his mind was already made up. 

But despite that my logic was telling me to just give up, I couldn't. I was completely unable. All I could think about was that there was no way that I wouldn't wake up next to him again. Or make him breakfast. Or go kayaking with him. Or lay in a hammock with him and read. Or laugh over beers with him. Or curl up next to him on the couch. Or go camping with him. Or kiss him and stroke his hair and look in his eyes. There are so many things. I didn't know that the last time for all of these wonderful things that I enjoy so much was actually going to be the last time. I'm not ready to let that go, it's just not fair, and I refuse to believe that I will never get to experience any of them again. It hurts so much that all I can do is wish they never even happened to begin with, so I wouldn't have these memories, so I wouldn't be thinking of and dwelling on all the things I've suddenly lost.

Breakups are the worst. Everyone has experienced it, but we wipe the pain from our memories so that we have the strength (or rather delusions) to keep trying. But fuck, they ARE terrible. And I can't remember the last time I experienced one like this, where I have zero desire to be broken up. My last breakup was so long coming, and being that I was the one who initiated it, it wasn't as bad for me and I was happily ready to be single again. It was definitely painful to be hurting someone I cared for, but I wasn't dwelling on all the things I would miss about him. The one before that was someone I knew deep down I shouldn't be with, but who had totally made me fall for him, and when he cheated on me and ran off to California to marry someone else, the breakup was rough but in a totally different way. This is the first time I can remember in so long where I feel entirely resistant to the idea and heartbroken that I've lost someone I truly don't want to lose.

And beyond the heartbreak over losing him, I feel betrayed. He told me he loved me more than he has ever loved anyone. Any time I pointed out our differences, he said they didn't matter. He wanted to buy a sailboat with me and travel, and when I mentioned what a huge commitment that was, he said there's no one he'd rather do it with. Any time I went through any of my depressed or anxious episodes, he held me and told me I'd have to try a lot harder to scare him off. Even while breaking up with me he kept telling me how wonderful I am and how much he loves me. I just don't understand any of this. How could someone who feels this way and says these things give up on us and on me because the going got tough? Why am I not worth it for him to want to work through this rather than losing me? That's what people who LOVE someone do. Why even use that word if it means nothing?

I just can't handle any of this right now. And, once again, I'm worried I'll never be able to trust anyone again, because what's the point? Every relationship ends, and everything good that happens just becomes fuel for feeling horrible later on. How does something go to nothing so fast? It makes no sense but happens all the time.




I figured I'd intersperse the depressed bullshit that only affects me with some photos from the Fourth of July when I went kayaking alone with Tank and a travel hammock and white wine. I used to do everything alone outside and it looks like I'm back to that.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I read your blog sometimes and I know it's corny, but I am thinking of you and sending good vibes your way.

Heidi said...

Katie girl,

I have read read your blog for years and years. Our problems are not the same but, they certainly mimic each other. For some random reason while I was reading this I thought of the Boston marathon bombing. And while that was happening I felt so demoralized, so let down by humanity. And what helped me was Mr. Rogers of all things. This corny picture of Mr. Rogers kept popping up all over Facebook. A picture of him saying his mother told him when bad things happen look for the helpers. There are always those helping others. I have thought of that quote so often since then. It became a mantra that turned into me being able to see positive although small events happening everyday. Oddly it has been extremely comforting.

We are both animal rescuers. And that kind of life not only requires a heart of gold, but one of steel. Helping animals means you're constantly slapped in the face with the worst of humankind. And yet we grit our teeth and pull of our boot straps and wade through the muck. It's so much easier to do that for someone else than yourself. But, it's in you. Don't forget that.

I now have to go hide under rock for saying so much our loud. :)

Heidi aka @doggoneandaway

Octohawk said...

Thank you so much for the comments <3