5 ridiculously, glorious months had passed. I was so in love I thought “this is it, I have found my other half.” We were in love, we were so happy. Every moment we spent together was complete bliss…until I decided to fuck it up. I got ahead of myself and started talking about us having a life together beyond what we had and I freaked him out. I knew he got nervous but what I didn’t know was how nervous. A couple of days later, he called and said we needed to talk. When a man starts off a conversation saying “we need to talk” grab a bottle! You’re going to need it. As expected it wasn’t good. He told me that he got scared, that he didn’t think he could give me what I needed or what I wanted. This coming from a 33-year-old man. He said he didn’t know that quite honestly he ever thought he would get married or have kids, he wasn’t sure that was the road meant for him. So there it was. All the happiness that I thought I had felt suddenly felt like nothing but an illusion. He knew what he didn’t want and I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be with him and get married and have kids-down the line, but he couldn’t think that far ahead. So we broke up instead.
Fast forward to three months from the time we broke up and I was still miserable, even more so when I heard he was dating someone new. At one point I literally felt like I couldn’t breathe, it was ridiculous! But it was love. I hadn’t even “been with him” for that long but my heart seriously ached. Thinking about him I literally ached. I kept telling myself that I had been here before, I had gone through breakups before so I would get through this one too except I had a hard time believing myself. I mean nothing made me happy, not my friends, not shopping, not working out, not the vodka bottle, not my family. Nothing! Because I am a masochist I would constantly look through old pics, read old love notes he would write me and think about our happy times. At times, I even tried to convince myself that it wasn’t really true, he never existed therefore neither did my heart ache. I tried telling myself that it wasn’t as perfect as I had thought but no matter what explanation I tried to feed myself the outcome was always the same. I wasn’t with him and every day that passed without him I died a little more.
As if I couldn’t possibly feel more embarrassed, hurt, betrayed and burnt my birthday was approaching and I thought about how I had pictured my bday to be-with him and it wasn’t going to be that anymore. Or would it? Call me a drama queen but i decided to chance it. I called him and I invited him to my birthday party. I told myself it was the best time to see him because it was my birthday so I was going to look fabulous and it wouldn’t look like I did it for him-even though I kept that in mind as I maxed out my credit card buying the “to die for” dress. When he said he would go my excitement quickly turned to nerves. What if he didn’t show? Worse yet what if he did show but with a date? I would be mortified!
The night of my bday he not only showed, he showed alone and early. The moment he saw me we smiled at each other n locked eyes. he slowly walked over to greet me and whispered to me how beautiful I looked, he made me promise to save him a dance and we went and mingled withe everyone else. My birthday party was a feast to remember, I had an amazing time but the whole time I thought of him and couldn’t help but look over at him throughout the night.
The morning after, I felt good. I was happy I had invited him, that he had come and that I hadn’t become an emotional sloppy drunk and begged for him to come back. I composed myself the whole night and acted like he was just another friend there to celebrate, all while secretly wanting to seduce him :} Hey it was my bday after all!
The next day my family threw me a 2nd birthday party and we had a bbq party-he couldn’t make it because he had to work but he texted me and continued to text me throughout the party. After he got out of work, he came over and joined the party. it was nice. We hung out like old times, we laughed we took pictures and I acted like he wasn’t the same man who had broken my heart. The question now was either I wasn’t in love with him anymore or maybe I was ok hanging out with him like this because I loved him that much. I accepted him as my friend and nothing more because I realized that I loved him so much that having him in my life as a friend was better than not having him at all. Quite frankly, I missed him terribly. I missed his company, his smile, his presence his humor and most of all I missed Miguel, my best friend.