As I come to grips with the aftermath of Day 4, I’ve noticed the mornings are unbearable. It’s the moment I wake up and for a few seconds have forgotten what has transpired. Then the waves come crashing down.
By the time my small army of unlicensed therapists (friends and family) talk me through the morning, the afternoons seem to be going by much more easily as I immerse myself in research, blogging and watching Friends reruns on Netflix (seriously, do this if you need mindless yet mildly entertaining noise in the background!).
It’s the mornings where I pick apart and analyze everything that has happened, and although unbearable at times, one of my best guy friends summed it up really simply:
“Okay, so to put it bluntly… you miss someone who doesn’t exist, and you’re pissed at
someone who does.”
Yup. The Mr. B that wooed me, the one I fell in love with, does not exist. He was replaced by a cruel, unemotional sociopath who discarded me once he was done using me.
Is sociopath too strong of a word? Perhaps. But consider this: The day before Mr. B broke up with me was New Years Eve. He met my closest friends, was the life of the party and played the part of the doting boyfriend. He was affectionate, wonderful and very convincing. As the clock struck 12, he dipped me back, kissed me passionately and proclaimed that he was “so happy to be ringing in the New Year with me.”
Thanks, Mr. B. I still have friends texting me how much they loved you and how in love with me you are. Happy 2015 to me?
Current Status: more angry than sad / convinced I dated a sociopath / still haven’t washed my hair