I believe oversharing is a real thing. I’m going to try and share as many details as all parties involved would be comfortable with, but that’s where I’m going to stop. I thank you for your understanding.
I have been in a truly amazing relationship for a significant time. I love him dearly, with all my heart. We have made lots of wonderful plans together, trips we would like to take, things we want to teach our children, things we want to do and things we would never do. We played lots of video games, I knit him complicated and amazing things, and I loved every minute I was privileged to spend with him. He is gentle, and kind, and respectful, and everything I could have imagined in a partner. He makes me laugh, but can talk serious without being uncomfortable. He loves video games but has a stable, well-paying, full-time job. He is adventurous, spontaneous, exciting, responsible, and cool-headed. He is my other half and one true love. We spend lots of time together, and we got to know and love each other well.
Yesterday, He came over to the place where I live now, and he told me that there was something he needed to tell me, something that he had been thinking about for a while. He held my hands in his, looked me in the eyes, and told me that He needed to break up with me. I cannot even begin to describe to you the unimaginable pain I felt and that I am still feeling. It hurts, emotionally and physically. I lost my best friend, my one and only, my soulmate, the yin to my yang, my better half, the love of my life – in one, heartbreaking, soulcrushing instant.
It hurts. I will not deny that I’ve cried more over the past 24 hours than the past year combined. I lost him, I lost the plans we made together, I lost the dreams we dreamed and it feels like I’ve lost not only my future, but everything that matters. I understand that it’s not a forever feeling, and I know that if he truly was the one then he wouldn’t have left. Knowing these things intellectually does nothing to abate the searing pain in my heart or to fill the gaping hole in my chest. Right now I am working on breathing, remembering to eat, knitting, and remembering that crying is okay. It is most definitely going to be very hard for the next unknown while.
Remembering to go gently is difficult, but for the next while it’s going to be all I can manage. Trying to chin up while accepting that despair is also reasonable – trying to continue being normal while feeling so unstable – trying to keep going when all I want is to curl up in bed and cry. Being gentle to myself, to the people around me, and most of all, to Him and our memories together is going to take up a lot of my attention over the next while, and I appreciate the understanding.
What I’m going to do with my life remains, newly and painfully, TBD.