When it comes to breaking up, we've all heard the stats, the quotes, things to live by etc. We know. You can't be friends with someone you loved. You either never did or still do. I think what this leaves out is the .0001 percent of the population who are extremely self aware and know what is best for them. It also doesn't account for the kind of love you shared.
We broke off our engagement. We separated households and went separate ways. We were both a bit bitter and filled with regrets. It took a couple weeks for me to see that I don't have space in my life or heart for the hatred. I needed to process. I know the split was needed, inevitable and neither of us could take more blame than the other. We were both guilty. Not many people are willing to invite their ex over to hash out the hatred, but I did. I will not allow myself to be consumed, nor will I let pride conceal my true feelings.
It took 5 minutes conversation for the weight to fall off of both of us. We could honestly say that we love each other, but we were not good for one another. We were a never ending ball of stress and tension. It affected our friends, children, work, habits, everything. We were the miserable couple that put on a good show. We were hot or cold. Nothing in between. Towards the end, every thing was forced. We both had to find a way to relax just to come home, but it was instant stress when we got there. We had to force ourselves to spend time together. There was no affection or true intimacy. We were just going thru the motions.
We weren't good for one another. That doesn't mean I don't love him. It doesn't mean he doesn't love me. It just means we don't love us.
For some the baggage they carry from past mistakes is more than can be overcome. The relationship itself became our tomb. The title built the foundation for ownership. Moving in together and sharing responsibilities became the walls in which surrounded us, and the ring was the lid. The final piece of that cage was the judge telling us we had to be married within 6 months. That was the lock. We panicked. We started beating harder against the walls until finally we broke free. That freedom comes with a cost, but its freedom none the less.
Truth is, I don't enjoy sharing my space. I have my quirks, and at some point I become controlling. The cycle just continues until we have a wedge so huge between us, no bridge can connect it. I'm also at the point in my life that I see that my kids need my focus more than anything. He sees that same need in his life. The tension we created was felt by all who entered our home. The first time my kids came home they were completely different humans. They weren't stressed at all. I can only imagine how his son was.
It isn't normal for people to see two people go from engaged, living together, working towards marriage and just be friends. I have to believe we are the exception. We are capable of laughing, talking, asking advice. We parted ways, and the day will come when we both meet someone new, and that's OK. I'm not ready to move on right now, but I want what's best for us. "Us" doesn't work the way it was. We can't just erase the past two years, but we can learn from it. We can choose to be better because of it. He is one of my best friends. He knows more about me then any other human on this planet. That doesn't just disappear.
I've been called a shitty person, insecure, stupid and desperate for continuing to even speak to him. Referred to as a band aid that just needs to be ripped off and thrown away. The past is exactly that. It's the past. We helped each other discover who we are, who we want to be, and that I'll never apologize for. We aren't trying again.. We aren't starting over. We are choosing the relationship we should have stuck with. I won't be hateful because it's considered normal. This life has enough hate. I choose to love, forgive and grow.
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