Tag Archives: forgiveness

Putting my heart back together

28 Dec

I haven’t blogged in a long time.

My apologies, but I needed a bit of a blogcation. In truth, I’m not sure whether I should continue to write here on Pizza of Doom, or set up some new place to post all my ramblings. Not because I don’t love what I’ve created here – I do. But because my life is finally moving on.

This week it will be 17 months since the man I loved – the man I thought I was going to marry and have beautiful children with – ate half a pizza and told me he had never been in love with me. What followed was nothing short of hell. I didn’t know true heartbreak before this happened. I didn’t understand trauma, or depression, or myself.

I remember when, five years ago, a friend of mine had her engagement called off. Her boyfriend of five years had met someone else. That first week after it happened, I reassured her, and I told her, “I promise it will never feel as bad as it does right now.” I should never have said that, because I realise now that she was still in shock. She was still processing things. Her pain would come to a sharp climax sometime later, and then linger for months that turned to years. I want you to know that this friend got married (to someone else) just before Christmas. She has a baby girl. She’s very happy now.

I think my pain was at its worst for the duration of the first six months following the Pizza of Doom. Oh, you can read that pain right here on my blog. But, what scared me, was when a year later – even over a year later – the pain was still here. I thought it would never go away.

Then, all of a sudden, something shifted. Funny how it happens. One day I thought to myself, “Hmmm, you haven’t cried in like two weeks – weird.”

There’s a passage in The Kite Runner by Khaled Hussein that explains how it works with my eloquence than I ever could:

“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

Now, I’m not sure that I’ve quite reached forgiveness. But I’ve reached contentment.

I refuse to feel sorry for myself that I’m still single at 32. Yes, the world is f***ed up for the fact that nobody celebrates you past graduation unless you’re getting married or having kids. But I don’t need to let that drag me down. I’m lucky. I can travel. I can buy things. I can live and create the life I want. And, if someone comes along, fantastic. But I can’t just sit here waiting.

I’ve started making changes. I’ve booked a trip to Japan. I’ve cut my hair (which I hadn’t had cut in nine years). I’m swimming and doing yoga and making sure that I celebrate things for myself – because nobody else will.

And, here’s something, I’m going to Japan on my own. It makes me slightly anxious, but it doesn’t scare me. Before, it would have. Before him. While we were together. Immediately after. I wouldn’t have had the confidence or the guts to pack up and head to the other side of the world for a month. Now, I do.

You see, this experience has changed me. It has totally changed me. All for the better. I am more sure of myself and comfortable in my skin than I have ever been. I’m resilient. I’m empathetic. I like myself a lot. If I do meet someone, if I do one day get to be a parent, I’ll be all the better at it for this experience. I guess it’s our darkest moments that test what we’re made of. Here are some Ted Talks to illustrate my point.

So I need to make a decision as to what to do with my blog. It will be here forever in cyberspace, hoping to offer comfort and advice and reassurance to poor broken hearts who Google points my way.

But I’ve finally put my own heart back together.

Advertisements

And you can have this heart to break

20 Nov

If something good has come from the pizza of doom (other than the weight loss and new appreciation for fantastically depressing music) it’s you, my blogger buddies.

I check WordPress several times a day. Sometimes your stories make me smile. Sometimes they make me sad. And sometimes I get mad as hell at some of the things your exes have done to you. I’m pretty loyal. Your exes appall me.

But, despite this, I do understand.

There are things my ex did that, looking back, I’m ashamed that I put up with. Being told it would be “healthier for our relationship” if we had no contact whenever I had PMS. Not great. Being told off for getting grass on his hardwood floors, when he had already trampled paint into my white carpets. Grrrrr. Being told he was, “never in love” with me. Ouch. The fact that he ate that f***ing pizza. Despite all this, I still love him and think about him all the time. I long for him. I miss him. I don’t know how to move on from him.

The dude who eats a pizza before breaking my heart.

Yes, that dude.

It’s something my counsellor brought up with me. That I was so in love with him, he could have done anything. I made myself completely vulnerable.

There’s a line in an old Billy Joel song, “And you can have this heart to break”.

My heart was his.

But does this make me stupid or weak or silly or naive? No. It does not. I got unlucky. I shouldn’t have trusted him. But, to make a relationship work, I think you have to give your all. To make it worthwhile you certainly do. You have to give your heart. Yes, the risk is there, but so is the promise.

I know that I feel things wildly. I’ve done Myers Briggs and other personality tests. I come out with a crazy tendency towards ‘feeling’. But that’s what will make me the best thing to ever happen to someone. One day.

So, to all you lovely people who have been through sh**, put up with sh**, been treated like sh**, and are still head-over-heels for the person dispensing the sh**, I get it. I’ll keep on feeling mad on your behalf, but I get it.

Because I still love him.

Even after he ate the pizza.