I don’t really want to talk about it. More accurately, I would probably be fine talking about it, but sitting down and writing about it sucks.
I feel like my guts got kicked out, and instead of stuffing them back inside me and trying to hold it together until it gets better I’m sort of obligated to investigate the damage and report on my findings.
I’m very gratified for all the concerned notes and messages, and offers to talk, but I kinda want to just bundle up and heal. So if you don’t hear from me personally, this post is for you, so you know that I’m okay.
And I am Okay, not peachy keen, but I’m not going to die either.
So first things first: The break up. I referred to my failure to get into school this quarter as the last straw because that’s what it was. It caused Tavi to reassess our relationship, and whether it was worth it. I don’t think I’m being to charitable to say that she believes if she couldn’t motivate me enough to get into school, then my being with her would only hold me back from finding someone who could give me what I need in the long run.
I’m realizing that for a while now, she hasn’t been coming to me to get her need for love, affection, or sex met (even sadomasochistic play has been rare for a while.) I wasn’t having these needs met, but I thought I was being a useful support during a difficult period for her. For her I provided service submission, and I now realise that the sense of control she got in having me pursue school and better myself was probably what she most needed from our relationship.
If I couldn’t do that for her, then right now she doesn’t have the emotional resources for our relationship. (There are other factors straining on her, but I don’t feel I can share those.) It was going to end eventually, perhaps its best for both of us that it ended now.
Which isn’t to say that it doesn’t feel awful to have someone you love tell you that they don’t want to be with you. To find out that they want you less than you want them. It sucks.
The thing is, I’m not devastated. I’m not suicidal. I’m not struggling to fight back the tears every minute of the day, and I sorta thought I would be. Last time I was heartbroken it was the end of the world, I was sure I was going to die, I was sure I wanted to die, and since I was dealing with undiagnosed depression at the time, it kicked off a downward spiral that lasted for almost two years.
I’m a little worried that the fact that I’ve been involved with Tavi for almost a year, and having been dumped, that I’m still able to get out of bed in the morning means that I’m a callous, heartless, shell of a human being that won’t ever be able to love someone totally and completely. I’m told however that as you grow up and shed your attachment issues the end of relationships become less of a life threatening disaster. It’s natural and normal to be okay.
I feel guilty that part of me is slightly relieved. the worst thing imaginable happened and I’m okay, bruised, but okay.
I am worried about being lonely and touch starved and frenzied for play and affection now that I don’t have a relationship. I don’t do intimate touch casually, and I’m going to miss having her to tell me what to do terribly. Of course, I also recognise how lonely and touch starved and frenzied for play I’ve been, when she was struggling with her own stuff, and distant, and unavailable.
I feel the impulse to go out and tear it up, to go crazy, to do anything but sit here and mope. I’m trying to channel that into mostly useful stuff. I did go an do something impulsive just for me, I got a double helix piercing the other day. It was a pretty good day and I hardly felt like shit at all.
I think if I can focus on being productive, exercising, and socializing as much as I can stand, then I can feel not shitty more often, and maybe soon I’ll have a day that doesn’t suck at all.
Thank you all for all your love, care, and support, (Please, please stop offering to talk to to me about heartbreak though, I’m going to get through this in my own time.)