The Dreaded B-word: Break-Ups

Breakups: possibly one of the hardest things to go through in one’s lifetime. A relationship, no matter how long it was for, can hurt like nothing else when it ends. But can a Breakup actually be a good thing? Can you learn something about yourself from a breakup?

I had to face such a question, not just about losing someone I loved, but losing a part of myself, only to realize that who I was wasn’t lost at all, just hiding under a lot of masks.

I dated a guy (who for this story will be known as X) off and on for 4, yes 4 years. He was older by 4 years, but to me we connected on an even playing field. I was the doting girlfriend who cooked and stood by his side at his pool games and he was a shoulder for me to cry on when the world was weighing me down. I was X’s cheering section during his bowling tournaments, while he “attended” my Drama productions at college. And by attended I mean he sent someone else to watch and relay information back to him about it.

It was perfect, when he was sick I tended to his every whim, when I was sick… well he had other things to do. The point was that we were together, and I loved him for it.

At Least I thought he loved me. See the problem was he had “friends”, he had female “friends” and “groupies” who were around and he,  playing up to them for the attention kept them around. I, being the doting girlfriend, allowed such behavior and never spoke up. “He comes back to me in the end of the night” I always repeated to myself “He likes the attention from these girls but he loves me”.

And I believed it, until he started vanishing when we were going out to parties to “have a talk with a female friend”.

I, being the doting girlfriend, believed him and never spoke up about his whereabouts. I was dating a guy that many a woman wanted to be with, but he was mine. I knew in my heart that if I stayed the course and just sat there and never spoke up, things would be fine. He always came home to me and was mine, all mine.

Until one night after a get together he stayed behind at a friend’s house to “help out another female friend”… and didn’t come home until the wee hours of the morning. I, being the ever worried and doting girlfriend stayed up all night worrying, calling his cell and head racing wondering where X could be. When he did come home at 5am (yes 5am) he acted as if nothing was wrong.