Healing from Heartbreak Hell

A year ago today, my ex ended our year-long relationship with a single, careless text. And I am so glad he did. But we will dive into that in a few paragraphs. In the beginning, it was truly heartbreak hell. However, through all of the highs and lows of the past year, I have grown, changed, become more cynical (always), and I think I can finally say that I am getting close to having healed from said heartbreak.

In some ways, it feels like this happened last week or even yesterday. There are days when it seems as though he just moved away. I remember so vividly “tracking” his drive back home and counting down until my visit to COVID Deathland, aka Missouri, so we could be reunited. But it also could have been five years since this all transpired: another lifetime, if you will. This past year has aged me so much, not merely because of the demise of the relationship and the fallout, although that certainly played a central role. Aside from feeling very old and exhausted, though, I have learned so much about myself and what I am seeking in a significant other. I never would have dated these men this year or had these realizations and experiences were I still with Ben*.

I’ve known that I would author this post, with this exact title, for months. (I would be lying if I said I wasn’t always dreaming up alliterative titles…) Recently, I thought that it would be particularly meaningful to me, poetic even, if I posted this on the one-year anniversary of our breakup. (Breakupiversary? No, that doesn’t really flow). I really love anniversaries and celebrating milestones and the passing of time, though I never thought this one would become such an opportunity for growth – or something I was relieved about or even proud of.

In the very beginning, how I felt about the breakup was vastly different than how I feel now. (Obviously). For the sake of time and keeping your attention, I will attempt to skip the recaps and focus instead on the present. As I wrote in the opening paragraph, as it stands now, a year later, I am so glad he broke up with me. Annie a year ago would not have shared those sentiments, but she also didn’t know all that lay ahead. I have had enough time to come to terms with his decisions, both to move/abandon me (I will never not see it that way), as well as to end our relationship. There are a wealth of parallels between my journey to get sober, and being in a dead-end and often toxic relationship, where you cannot see the truth or the light until you manage to break through the eyewall of the storm. And this is one of those situations.

Ben and I would not have been good for each other; I doubt our relationship would have lasted more than two or three years at most – and had we gotten married, he probably would have filed for a divorce. Why? Because we were fundamentally too different, he had no idea how to “handle” me – and I was WAY out of his league. But as I said, it has taken me the full 365 days, plus countless conversations with my dad and other important people in my life, to realize that and actually believe it. When I was in the relationship, I only saw the positives: he was everything I needed at the time and he provided me companionship and a feeling of comfort + safety during my first year of sobriety. He brought me flowers occasionally; he invited me on trips and included me in his family’s life; he let me vent; and it was always a given that I would see him several times a week. I missed that so much after he left; there are still days when I think about how wonderful it was to be able to make plans and look forward to seeing him on Wednesday nights for dinner and always on the weekends. But now, having had this past year to reflect, grieve, and process both the relationship itself as well as the door slamming closing on that particular chapter, I see so clearly that I was more in love with having someone around than I was with him.

He had plenty of qualities I didn’t care for – and we weren’t aligned politically, which is why I know we were fundamentally too different to be together long-term. However, the timing of him entering my life when I needed someone the most is incredibly fortuitous. We met a mere few days into my final attempt to quit drinking – and I had no idea what I was doing or whether I was going to be alright. I think I am finally getting closer to seeing it as a positive, that he was here for my first year of sobriety, and am therefore able to let go of some of the lingering anger. That, of course, doesn’t change what he did: who abandons their significant other, whom they claim to love, after giving them less than a week’s notice? It was incredibly sudden, hurtful, and very reflective of how self-absorbed he was. If he ever has children, I hope they change him for the better, because no one in their mid-30s should still be that selfish. But back to the statement about him being exactly what I needed: I do feel so grateful that I didn’t have to be alone for my first year of sobriety. I am on my own for everything else, it seems, so to have had that comfort, predictability, and sometimes support is absolutely crucial – and I will certainly always be thankful to him for that.

Between reflecting on our relationship and him leaving/whatever was going through his head when he sent that text, plus all of the men I have met in the 11 months since I started dating again, I now know exactly what kind of person I want to be with long-term – and perhaps more importantly, I have realized my self-worth. Sobriety and dating seem to be sort of entangled, like a messy plate of leftover spaghetti: it is through most of these dalliances that I have learned things about myself that I would never have realized were I still actively addicted. Further, had Ben and I stayed together, I would have a very limited scope of sober dating. My sobriety has made me selective, as I wrote in a previous post, and it has woken me up to what I deserve. For example, I know for certain I would have kept “Bad Egg” around in my previous life. I would probably have “drank about” my anger after the “Northern Happyville” (cringe-vomit) incident, then found a way to move past it because I didn’t want to lose our time together or our running dates, etc. But I won’t stand for that kind of mistreatment and disrespect now. Absolutely not. I would rather be alone than be with the wrong person or someone who disrespects me.

A year ago today, I never could have dreamed that I would be sitting here, writing about this. I was too scared to start blogging again, for starters, and I couldn’t have imagined all that has transpired in the past year. I don’t think I believed at the time that I would be capable of navigating any of the impending pain, loss, or co-occurring health issues and illnesses without turning to alcohol. Yet, here I am, sober as a bird and approaching my two-year soberversary. To quote the Germans: “Wahnnsinn”. I sometimes say to my dad, “I feel like the luckiest person in the world” – and I really do. Had I not gotten sober when I did, I probably never would have met Ben. And had I not met him, I wouldn’t have had the experiences, dating and otherwise, that I’ve had this past year. So, as it turns out, sometimes we don’t know what’s best for us but we will learn along the way and become better, stronger, and more confident as a result of the hardship(s). And that does make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.

*names have been changed