The worst part is the helplessness. It doesn’t matter what you say or how you try and cope, the bottom line is that you are powerless. I have absolutely no decision in the matter, and that is the worst part. All I can do is sit and wait and hope while simultaneously trying to move on. You don’t move on because you want to, but it is done out of necessity. I know that I cannot live like this; not a plea for suicide by any means, just that there are better and happier times ahead of me. I would like for those times to have started yesterday.
Unfortunately, moving on cleanly and quickly is almost impossible, at least in my case. For every positive few steps forward there is a crippling step backward. At first, it’s the obvious problems of “we used to hang out around this time” or “9:00 means we talk on the phone, but….” Those setbacks aren’t personal as much as getting past the routine. It is here that you realize how much that person was a part of your life in ways you never thought about. It is here that you realize what you have ahead of you.
Time does not wait for you to try and make sense out of it. Tests come, problems with friends arise, all of these things seem to add up and compound to an incredible force of suck that is barreling down behind you like you’re Indiana Jones. It doesn’t matter if the problem is that you’re out of clean socks, it will hit you like a ton of bricks. “She doesn’t love me anymore and my feet are totally going to smell if I take off my shoes in a public situation.”
The best way to get over someone is to get with someone else, as it will make you forget about the first girl. This was the advice I received, and I did my best to forget. You convince yourself that this is great, fantastic, flesh-on-flesh awesomeness. The other person was ok, I mean, you could talk and stuff, but this girl/guy is hot! And you’re exploring each other’s naughty bits, and that’s also awesome! Man, this is so much better!
What hits you next is the emptiness, the shallowness of the whole ordeal. Even when engaging in the most intimate of acts with someone else, you cannot artificially create the same personal connection you had with the other. There is a point where you realize it, when you’re lying next to someone, maybe with legs or other limbs intertwined, and you have never felt more alone. You could be surrounded by thousands of people but there is nothing but you and your thoughts and your complete lack of other, the lack of the other part of you, the lack of the rest of you.
Time does heal wounds, albeit it at the pace of a baby in a marathon. After a month or so things start to improve. The problems no longer compound, but are merely their own little demons to your piece of mind. The thoughts still linger, and will probably always linger, when you hear that song that reminds you of them, or that one shirt they got you, or the shoes that they liked you in. Save from a full-frontal lobotomy, these thoughts are impossible to shake. You learn to grow, you learn to ignore it and move on with your life.
Just when you think things are going great for yourself and your personal search-and-rescue mission, you run into the other person. Thanks to technology, that can be as easy as looking your buddy list, or facebook, or myspace, etc. You come face to face (figuratively, of course) with the person who turned you away, refused your love, and decided that anything else is better. Needless to say, it could be a tad painful.
You check their profile and their away a hundred times in an hour for any little update. Nothing ever changes, but you refuse to miss it if it does. You’re both done playing your cryptic games of “does he/she want me back?” through bits of lyrics or other quotes, just resigned to read “in a good mood” as “I don’t need you, I never did, and I’m moving on without you just fine.” While sense says that the other person is going through the same retching feelings of despair that you go through each time you hear That Band or see That Movie or hear That Phrase, this is all about emotions. Your sense has no power here.
Humans have a distinct urge to find out the truth no matter if it hurts them or not. When you’re on the phone with your former beau and they ask you what you’ve been doing with your new, replacement friend you have to know the answer. It’s emotional suicide, and we all have to pull that trigger. When the other person has updated his or her picture site as you fully know that he or she has a picture up with the new person, you click it knowing you’re going to be hurt. But you have to look. You have to. Your own feelings be damned.
Of course, you scroll right down to see their new replacement friend. Upon seeing the picture you enter into a smorgasbord of emotions: anger, resentment, sadness, betrayal, and then anger. You immediately measure yourself against this other person happily knowing that you cannot lose (the judge is totally in your pocket). You think maybe it would be easier if they were really attractive, or have some features that are much better than yours. At least then this move of the other person would make some sense. (Didn’t you forget? Sense is worthless!)
The next phase is incredible, furious anger. You are now out for blood. It doesn’t matter what great times you had in the past, because all you can remember is the pain that they caused you. “After all I did for him/her, this is how they pay me back?!” Soon, the goal is not to get back with the other person, but instead to make them feel just like you feel. Age, maturity level, none of this matters; it is guttural, animalistic, vindictive and completely human.
The real question is what’s the point? The whole situation is incredibly stupid and can be easily avoided. But we never avoid it. This is our opportunity to not just watch the car crash, but to sit in the driver’s seat and understand the pain. We become ingrained with misery just as we would become ingrained with the windshield. We steer into the divider and hope for the best, because somewhere deep down inside, it’s the only way we know how.
The way we deal with pain is more pain, be it to others or ourselves. We give back exactly what we get. When things were better, there could not have been enough love to bestow upon the other. If you put each tender moment on top of the each other, the stack would scrape the sky. Then that stack falls. Pick up the love notes and throw them at each other until something makes sense.
But then again, nothing makes sense. None of this does. If it did, would it really even be fun? Worth it? There is no time for reason when it comes to emotions, because with sense, emotions go out the window. There is no good reason why you would put all of your faith in to one person who is four hours away. Reason says that you are surrounded by girls and that you are wasting your time sticking with just one person in this giant world full of possibilities.
Of course, for a time, reason is wrong. Unfortunately, that time is fleeting.