We broke up yesterday (yes, on Valentine’s Day). At least, if nothing else, the dread is worse than the actual reality. I can be grateful that the last month of us barely being able to spend time together prepared me for actually not being together.
It’s funny though, because if it had to happen, we at least got the best possible scenario. We both know that we can’t meet the other’s needs right now. He can’t give me the support and togetherness that I need, and I certainly can’t give him the amount of space for work that he needs right now. I still don’t understand why we couldn’t compromise, but I have to accept that his needs are different from mine and that I can’t always understand those. I’m glad that I won’t have to sacrifice my needs or hide my hurt anymore, and that I won’t feel like I’m lowering my standards for what I want in a relationship.
It hurt, and I suppose that will come in waves for a while… But at least we’re on good terms. We spent the night before together and left the decision for morning; I’m thankful for that last evening. He assured me that his feelings haven’t changed; mine surely haven’t either. We’ll be able to see each other at some point (which I normally don’t do after a breakup), but I don’t know when and I’m surely not initiating. I’ll call and let him know later this week when I find out whether I got the job I interviewed for, too.
I just don’t think I have it in me to fall apart right now. It will make it a whole lot easier if I did get this job though; 65-hour workweeks would definitely keep my mind occupied. I’ll miss him, and I’m not sure this has really sunk in yet, but I’m determined to keep it together.
…even though I’ll want him every day for a while. I’ll just have to take it all one day at a time. Maybe I’ll go numb for a little while… Numb(ish) I think I can handle.