Sometimes It Takes a Wedding to See the Light
Heartbreak
“Don’t say yes!” I yelled, legs shaking.
I knew it was a terrible idea to come to his wedding but what can I say? I’m an emotional masochist. I don’t know why he invited me here in the first place, two years prior he had broken me so completely that I still haven’t healed. I thought this could help me get over him but I was terribly wrong.
Many a night have I gone over the scenario over and over in my head. It would be my last thoughts before I drift to sleep, or a hazy daydream on the subway, or a fleeting thought as my eyes glance at his favorite dessert (chocolate pudding) while shopping at the market; I would think of the last night we spent together.
His hands were warm on my back; it felt nice. We were lying on my bed, eyes closed and intertwined, listening to the inhales and exhales of our breathing bodies. I could hear the faint beating of his heart as my head lay on his chest. I was utterly content and I felt blissful lying in his arms. I had fallen asleep and when I awoke he was sitting on the edge of my bed. I sat up rubbing my eyes; I laced my fingers through his.
“Hello,” I said with a smile. I leaned over, using my free hand to turn his face towards mine. I loved to look at him; I thought he was beautiful. But his face looked neutral, neither happy nor sad. I ignored my twisting gut and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft; he gave a half effort to press his lips against mine. My guts twisted harder. I moved away and looked for his eyes, they averted mine. I sat back against the headboard and clasped my hands together, waiting.
“Look, you’re a really nice girl… I … I just don’t think you’re the right person for me”.
I thought I might expel the content of my stomach so I remained quiet for a moment. My eyes began to water but I managed to keep the tears from running over. My brain switched in to logic mode.
“I don’t understand, I thought we were happy?”
“We were, but we both knew that this relationship is just a fantasy. This relationship could never really manifest. We’ve discussed this before.”
“Oh… Okay. I guess I can understand that.”
“Yeah…”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he abruptly stood up.
“I’ll leave now. I’ll see you around.” He rushed towards the door and made his way out.
I sat still for a good five minutes before I actually processed what just happened, and then It finally hit me. The tears I had been holding back flowed with a vengeance, my breathing became shallow and rapid. I pulled my legs up to hug them, tucked my head in to the crevice and cried.
I knew I shouldn’t have believed him. Story of my life: I can get guys to want me, but never date me. They start out very eager and when I finally start falling they’re never there to catch me, they lose interest. I should have trusted my gut, but I thought, “He could be different”.
For the past two years I’ve been pining after how we used to be. I’ve been living in a fantasy world because I was too stubborn and hurt to face the truth; He did not want me, but I wanted him. He was always on my mind and in my thoughts.
We have established a good friendship. When we would make plans to see each other, I would locked my feelings in a box and tried to act as natural as possible. I guess I played my role well because several months ago he had sent me a “save the date” in the mail. He had told me about the girl but I didn’t think the relationship was that serious. I figured if I saw him there and happy with her I might finally realize that he is better off without me and I without him.
Now I stand here in this small church, making a fool of myself.
“I … I’m sorry,” My voice began to tremble. “Excuse me please.” I hurriedly gathered my things and made a mad dash for the door.
The smog of awkward embarrassment clung to me like a koala to a eucalyptus tree. I couldn’t wait to get home and wash the shame off.
Twenty minutes later I was in the shower. The stinging hot water was painful but it felt cleansing. When I was convinced I had washed most of the shame off, I hopped out and wiped the mirror. I stared myself in the eyes and repeated, “He loves her, not you,” and “You need to get over him, he’s not worth your time,” to myself. Even though I said these words, I couldn’t get myself to believe them. I started getting frustrated, “YOU’RE AN IDIOT! HE HAS NEVER LOVED YOU AND HE NEVER WILL! WHY CAN’T YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR STUPID HEAD?!” I gripped the sink, I wanted to hurt myself but I knew I never would, I hated pain.
I walked to my bedroom and lay down, closing my eyes. I know that whatever I try to do to speed up the process will be to no avail. Only time can heal a broken heart. My mind wandered to better days, when it seemed that all was well and-- My eyes shot open. I caught myself this time and it made me smile. It gave me hope that my better days were ahead of me, not in the past.
I knew it was a terrible idea to come to his wedding but what can I say? I’m an emotional masochist. I don’t know why he invited me here in the first place, two years prior he had broken me so completely that I still haven’t healed. I thought this could help me get over him but I was terribly wrong.
Many a night have I gone over the scenario over and over in my head. It would be my last thoughts before I drift to sleep, or a hazy daydream on the subway, or a fleeting thought as my eyes glance at his favorite dessert (chocolate pudding) while shopping at the market; I would think of the last night we spent together.
His hands were warm on my back; it felt nice. We were lying on my bed, eyes closed and intertwined, listening to the inhales and exhales of our breathing bodies. I could hear the faint beating of his heart as my head lay on his chest. I was utterly content and I felt blissful lying in his arms. I had fallen asleep and when I awoke he was sitting on the edge of my bed. I sat up rubbing my eyes; I laced my fingers through his.
“Hello,” I said with a smile. I leaned over, using my free hand to turn his face towards mine. I loved to look at him; I thought he was beautiful. But his face looked neutral, neither happy nor sad. I ignored my twisting gut and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft; he gave a half effort to press his lips against mine. My guts twisted harder. I moved away and looked for his eyes, they averted mine. I sat back against the headboard and clasped my hands together, waiting.
“Look, you’re a really nice girl… I … I just don’t think you’re the right person for me”.
I thought I might expel the content of my stomach so I remained quiet for a moment. My eyes began to water but I managed to keep the tears from running over. My brain switched in to logic mode.
“I don’t understand, I thought we were happy?”
“We were, but we both knew that this relationship is just a fantasy. This relationship could never really manifest. We’ve discussed this before.”
“Oh… Okay. I guess I can understand that.”
“Yeah…”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he abruptly stood up.
“I’ll leave now. I’ll see you around.” He rushed towards the door and made his way out.
I sat still for a good five minutes before I actually processed what just happened, and then It finally hit me. The tears I had been holding back flowed with a vengeance, my breathing became shallow and rapid. I pulled my legs up to hug them, tucked my head in to the crevice and cried.
I knew I shouldn’t have believed him. Story of my life: I can get guys to want me, but never date me. They start out very eager and when I finally start falling they’re never there to catch me, they lose interest. I should have trusted my gut, but I thought, “He could be different”.
For the past two years I’ve been pining after how we used to be. I’ve been living in a fantasy world because I was too stubborn and hurt to face the truth; He did not want me, but I wanted him. He was always on my mind and in my thoughts.
We have established a good friendship. When we would make plans to see each other, I would locked my feelings in a box and tried to act as natural as possible. I guess I played my role well because several months ago he had sent me a “save the date” in the mail. He had told me about the girl but I didn’t think the relationship was that serious. I figured if I saw him there and happy with her I might finally realize that he is better off without me and I without him.
Now I stand here in this small church, making a fool of myself.
“I … I’m sorry,” My voice began to tremble. “Excuse me please.” I hurriedly gathered my things and made a mad dash for the door.
The smog of awkward embarrassment clung to me like a koala to a eucalyptus tree. I couldn’t wait to get home and wash the shame off.
Twenty minutes later I was in the shower. The stinging hot water was painful but it felt cleansing. When I was convinced I had washed most of the shame off, I hopped out and wiped the mirror. I stared myself in the eyes and repeated, “He loves her, not you,” and “You need to get over him, he’s not worth your time,” to myself. Even though I said these words, I couldn’t get myself to believe them. I started getting frustrated, “YOU’RE AN IDIOT! HE HAS NEVER LOVED YOU AND HE NEVER WILL! WHY CAN’T YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR STUPID HEAD?!” I gripped the sink, I wanted to hurt myself but I knew I never would, I hated pain.
I walked to my bedroom and lay down, closing my eyes. I know that whatever I try to do to speed up the process will be to no avail. Only time can heal a broken heart. My mind wandered to better days, when it seemed that all was well and-- My eyes shot open. I caught myself this time and it made me smile. It gave me hope that my better days were ahead of me, not in the past.