It started when I was 22, dancing the night away under the strobe lights of a club packed sardine-can-style. I attempted to dance the alcohol I’d consumed off and sway my body in some sort of “come-hither” way but ended up laughing more at myself than achieving anything until… she came up to me and asked if I wanted to dance and I said, “no” — only because I clearly could not dance and didn’t want to embarrass myself any further.
She tilted her head back, laughed, and said, “Of course not. Not a surprise.” and winked at me. I…
As I lie on my bed, phone above my face, I scrolled through my plethora of apps and felt a jolt as a small vibration let me know that I had received another flirtatious message. I opened the message and my semi smiling face turned quickly to confusion as I read the message over and over, it said;
“Oh, I’ve never heard of You’ve Got Mail but I’d be down to watch it with you if you want to re-watch it”
First off, I have watched that movie more times than I can count. Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks & witty…
I swear it hits me like a slap in the face. Hard, fresh, sudden and leaving a sting that I can’t quite tell if it ever goes away when I think of it.
When I least expect it, when I’m working, when I’m in the shower, and of course, when I am about to close my eyes for the night — it hits me.
I suppose it makes sense that it would keep coming back up, my brain is so full to the brim with sweet and sour memories that it would have to spill over into my conscious mind…
I found the screenshot while scrolling through my immense amount of selfies, pictures of my dog and outfit photos. I thought I had erased all traces of us on my phone so that I would stop looking at your face and wondering where you had gone but alas, it caught my eye. There it was, a screenshot of a quote from Pinterest that I had saved on my phone on January 16th.
At that point we had been dating five months and some part of me, deep inside and buried by avoidance, already felt this way;
I have always been firmly again’st the quote, “Everyone needs their heartbroken in order to realize who they are”. I thought that was absolute foolishness made up by some overly zealous hopeless romantic.
Turns out, that was me.
My heart was like a never ending waterfall of love, affection and giving, all to my romantic partners but never to myself. I was the type of lover who would break my own heart into pieces and use whatever good pieces I had left, to fix theirs. Constantly ripping my own band-aids off to stop the bleeding on my other half’s wounds…
That was stupid, I thought to myself. I had just left another unanswered voicemail for my ex, my voice colored with a mix of actual happiness, deep sympathy and a nice thick layer of regret the entire call.
Why had I done that? I thought to myself.
Why keep putting myself out into the abyss of core-cutting silence?
I started into the normal spiral that proceeded me after contacting him, the fun swirl of shame, sadness and most of all regret. Heartbreak had begun to heal but a serious ghosting had left me hollow.
Somewhere near the bottom of the…