I thought about this in the car today... I can't remember what song it was now, but song lyrics on the radio is all that triggered this.
I was thinking about that feeling I had after Will broke up with me. It was such a powerful feeling, amazing yet terrible... how I loved him so much, yet hated him for hurting me... at the same time both loved and hated my feelings for him... thinking about him made me sob with angry and hurt tears, and yet also still gave me that feeling of flying... thinking about how I wasn't strong enough for that anguish, yet I was amazed by its power... that feeling is what I got when Sean broke up with me, yet a more muted version (because we hadn't been together for as long).
If you haven't felt such terrible pain as that, you probably don't fully understand what I'm talking about... how you want to care for someone but hate the fact that you do... how you think about them with those deep feelings controlling your thoughts, yet are forced to face the fact that you've lost them forever...
Getting past that horrible, yet almost curiously addictive stage was really hard for me. Sometimes I wanted to win him back. Other times, I wanted to push him and tell him just how much he'd hurt me. And still other times, I wanted more than anything to cry and run into his arms and rid myself of my depression.
But during that time, the reason it took me a while was because I didn't want to get over him. I just wanted him back. I think you can't get past someone when you still have feelings for them. You can pretend. And I didn't even want to do that.
I didn't want to just give up on him. I still wanted to hope that he'd change his mind. I still desperately clung to the ideas in my head that it was all a mistake.
And part of me, perhaps ever the more fueled by my still-existing feelings for him, still feels like it was a mistake. Like it wasn't the right time for the relationship to end. It felt out of place, inserted in the wrong moment of our relationship.
We had an argument... and I know that a lot of my pain comes from the fact that, truthfully, I started it. I was upset because he had gotten a part in High School Musical with me and had agreed to do it, and I wanted so badly to see him more often... this was our chance. And then he decided he wasn't going to do the show. My dreams of us spending all that rehearsal time together (like we did with MASH, the fall show, but even better because we had this wonderful relationship together now) crashed before my eyes.
Looking back, I have since learned that I was so stupid for letting my frustration compromise my feelings for him and allow myself to call him a jerk and say other things to him... we both did that. We both got too upset and let it grow into a huge, silly argument. I didn't know it would destroy our relationship. I will never, ever do that again.
The was a Saturday evening. Later that night I called and got no answer, instead leaving a message. I called a couple times Sunday and left messages (and sent a text message or two as well), and recieved silence from him the entire day. I wanted to apologize and now that I had calmed down, was ready to accept that he wasn't doing the show and move on in our relationship together. I called the Bluffton Today Vox and left one apologizing to my boyfriend, saying that I hoped we were okay.
Monday came... he always walked to school and came through the door leading to the buses, where I then met him and talked until the first bell rang. That morning was different - he came to the door, it was locked... I started to get up to go open it and he rushed away. By that time, I was scared. I was afraid that he was still really upset with me. I felt so bad for the argument. And they had printed my Vox. I got hold of a newspaper and tore it out to show it to him later.
Lunch came, and after fiddling nervously with pencils, the corners of papers, and other objects throughout my classes, I saw him. He took my aside and said he needed to talk to me, and I handed him the newspaper piece. He had already read it, and though it was unnamed, he knew it was from me.
He then proceeded to tell me that we were just too different (for instance, he was outgoing, I was quiet)... that he felt it was best if we ended things because he didn't feel that way about me anymore. That our argument is what made him start thinking about that. And that I was still a good person, and he still thought I was beautiful. (And see, recalling that still makes me cry, because he was one of the few people that called me beautiful... and I truly believed him.)
And you know, I still think the breakup came too fast, too suddenly. We could have made it past that one argument. We aren't too different - I look at both of us, and we work so well together. We might have had something amazing.
I think that's partly why I still at times have issues with this... because it was my fault. If I hadn't gotten so upset, if I hadn't let myself feel so personally insulted by the fact that he was busy, and he didn't like High School Musical anyway, so he wasn't going to do it... then I wouldn't have lost someone who I cared so much about. Not many people can give me such a special feeling, but he did. He was an amazing person, and because I was stupid, I lost my chance with him.
As you can see, writing down my thoughts on that one particular, powerful mixture of feelings has now become a very long, emotional blog. Thank you very much for reading.
ps. I copy/pasted this from my myspace blog.