The Breakup

The kids are at the ages now where there will be crushes and dates and inevitably, breakups. I already have them asking what it’s like to breakup and move on and sometimes, it’s hard to know the right thing to say. 

I could say it all works out how it’s supposed to, but they see friends of ours who divorce and don’t have that happy ending yet. I could say the heart heals, but that’s not always true either. I still feel the sting of the breakups I’ve had, some worse than others. I could tell them that sometimes, you find lifelong friends in those you break up with. 

I think back on what it was like to go through that. It’s funny how sometimes, you only remember the bad. I have had some great conversations over the last year with my high school boyfriend, and it’s been fun to reminisce. We had quite the romance. Two and a half years together. Broke up before prom. I dated his friend. He went away to college. I visited. He came home at Christmas and we talked about getting back together. I made it too difficult. Eventually we both moved on, though my heart still longed for him. He was handsome and smart and fun to be around. He still is! 

That breakup taught me how not to give up on love - because I gave up on that relationship. But it turns out, we make great friends and the friendship we have now is exactly what we were meant to be. 

I started dating someone new, as did he. I fell hard and fast. Those eyes on love #2… still something I remember to this day. Every time I see Scott Speedman on a television show, I’m reminded of him because they look similar. He made me feel like a princess. I took it for granted. I was dramatic. I broke up with him thinking that we’d always get back together. Until we didn’t. I remember leaving his house the last time, sure he would run out after me. He didn’t. And no matter how much I pretended not to care, no matter how much I waited… he was over me. He moved on. He’d forgot or let go or just buried his feelings. I knew he didn’t love love me, because he moved on with his life, and that probably hurt the most: knowing I wasn’t as important as I thought I was. I realize now I broke up with him back then because I wanted him to run after me; I needed to feel like someone needed me. 

That second one was a real breakup. I remember how alone I felt. How angry I was. How hurt I felt. How much I tried to hide it by pretending to be ok. By making him think he meant nothing. But I just wanted him back. 

That breakup taught me how to survive, because for a year, it took all my concentration just to breathe and go through the days motions. 

The kids are going to have their own breakups. They will experience all different versions. But I hope that in the end, they find the one person to complete them. That’s what we all deserve.