Love Hangover

"And yes, being lovesick is like being in mourning. Because you die, because your future dies and you with it...There is a hurting time. It lasts for so long. But it gets better. I know that now."

~Nina George~

So, when I got married to the first man I fell in love with, it was the love of a young girl that drove me there. I NEVER experienced heartache or lovesickness with the Dreaded Ex when we split up. I was relieved. Probably because he was a jerk. Or for those that actually knew him, you go by what the therapist who helped me unravel all the knotted experiences from that marriage called him-a sociopathic narcissist. By the time we split up, there was no love left. Only the bitter taste of disappointment and many years of regret. I mourned the loss of a nearly twenty year investment of time into someone that at the end of our marriage always let me down, cheated on me and would not change the character defects in himself that contributed to us falling apart.

Yes, there have been men who I've loved and left or they loved and left me since then. Mister. Gigantor. The Cowboy. Breaking up with them hurt at the time, but I got over the breakups pretty quickly. I had more anger or was offended more than anything, It was more of a let-down. But I didn't mourn them. Mostly because I knew there were others in the periphery. Waiting. I'm still friends with a couple of the men of my life. Like, they check in on me when I'm going through a rough patch. One sent me flowers to cheer me up after the break-up with The Man. Gigantor texts me regularly and we plan hikes when I have the time. Gigantor still professes his undying love for me. He's kind and funny and adores me. We're good friends. He's just in a different place than I am.

But, I've never experienced what I had heard about for so long with other people and their breakups. What do I mean? All stories you hear, the kind of things that happen with people that cheesy love songs are written about. You know "You left me and now all I want to do is drink til my cells are saturated with alcohol and I drunk text you at 2 in the morning or write bad poetry about our love." I never understood that. Or eating bad things to boost your seretonin levels. Or needing to fill yourself with someone else so quickly after. I never understood that. Until now. I understand the sentiment now. I understand how you can hurt so much you want to do that. Do anything to make your chest stop hurting, or the tears falling or for the memories to stop giving you pain.

In extreme cases, there can actually be physical manifestions of a broken heart in your actual heart. It's called broken heart syndrome. According to the Mayo Clinic, "In broken heart syndrome, there's a temporary disruption of your heart's normal pumping function in one area of the heart. The remainder of the heart functions normally or with even more forceful contractions. Broken heart syndrome may be caused by the heart's reaction to a surge of stress hormones.
The condition may also be called takotsubo cardiomyopathy, apical ballooning syndrome or stress cardiomyopathy by doctors. The symptoms of broken heart syndrome are treatable, and the condition usually reverses itself in days or weeks." Apparently, the symptoms mimic heart attacks. People have died of this. But upon a post mortem examination, no clots were present inside the heart. No obvious medical reason was given for the heart to give out. I've also heard about the tendons inside the heart breaking and the heart collapsing.

I went to the doctor recently. My blood pressure was sky high for me. I told my heart "Don't you believe what you heard about broken hearts...you're gonna be okay. I hope..."

I was scrolling through my facebook feed not long ago and came across this video. I thought it was brilliant. It made me cry because I have been feeling wretched.

Not long ago, I was talking to a colleague of mine who is a counselor recently about what I had been feeling. I had some personal losses in my extended family to suicide and those deaths were compounded by the fact that I was already raw and in pain. I was a mess. She listened.

I think what was the worst thing for me was the fact that I had more questions than answers about us. How can one person go from being so in love to being cold and unfeeling in such little time.

I've tried rationalizing. Cleaning. Getting so drunk that I couldn't think straight. Ate my weight in food I shouldn't. I've talked with friends. Family. Tried talking to him. I've tried dating someone else. Tried tinder.

Nothing.

I can't bring myself to delete the photos from my phone. I think about him every day.

It's not that he was such an amazing man. But, he was. He wasn't really all that remarkable. But, he was. He was ordinary and kind of boring. But, he wasn't. 

He made me feel normal and extraordinary all at the same time. He made me feel like I was exceptionally beautiful and smart and incredible when I didn't feel like it myself. We loved talking to one another.  We could talk for hours about everything and nothing. He never wanted to stop talking with me..it made him desire me more.

He took my breath away with the things he said to me. Unexpectedly saying things so profound and vulnerable about how I made him feel that it surprised even him. I could make him shy telling him how good he was. He covered his insecurities with false bravado and used his physicality to make up for things he felt he lacked in. I was completely in love with him.

I am completely in love with him still.

I never understood one and only until him. He is the yardstick by which I measure all men. I see him in the walk of someone I work with. I think of his hands seeking mine out and how he nestled into me when we watched football. I still have a hard time going into certain gas stations. Or hearing certain songs. And I haven't been able to watch football. But, I will. I'm making myself.

I can't help but think of that fateful day when everything changed for us...

It still haunts me.

The day of his accident, The Man changed. It was like a death. I grieve the man I lost, because I don't know this stranger who replaced him. The day of that accident, my love was transformed.

I grieve what I lost and could have been. I grieve my future without him.

The only question that still haunts me is...

Does he grieve us too? Does he think about me? Does he miss me?

The Man I Love died that day. Or retreated into himself. I think he's there. I just don't know where. So, I'm lost too...

I'm still a wreck.