Grieving a Relationship
When a relationship ends for me, I often feel the same as when someone close to me has passed away. It's not that the person has died, but that the relationship has. And I miss the relationship, and so, I grieve for it.
The "denial" stage was quite interesting for Michael and I. The relationship was gone, but we were still living in the apartment together. It was easy to pretend that everything was okay, that the relationship hadn't died. We even maintained the "facebook status" until I moved out. Denial was easy and hard in its own ways...I do remember not sleeping well, and crying to myself a lot...but I also remember the comfort of feeling like everything at least "looked" okay. Perhaps I was "bargaining" a little, even, trading the appearance of a relationship for an actual one, when the actual one didn't work.
I skipped over "anger," I think, because it's just not in me. Michael skipped it at first and went to "bargaining" when I moved out, wanting a friends-with-benefits type of relationship even though the romance, and honestly, the love, weren't there. I couldn't do it. That's when he went to "anger". I could feel it in his texts. I could hear things he did and said through friends. On the rare phone call, I could hear it myself. It was hard not to jump right in and be angry with him, but I didn't want to go down that path, and so...
I became depressed instead. I have a history of depression in my life, so it was a familiar fallback after denial and once Michael had taken to anger. I was comfortable in my depression, imagining different ways to inflict death upon myself each night before bed. Even better if that death came while I was rescuing Michael somehow. I wouldn't actually do it, and on really bad nights I would call Wade, who would keep me company on the phone until I fell asleep. I have to say, while depression is...depressing...it doesn't scare me much anymore. It's a sadly comfortable place.
And then, magically, at some point during the Europe trip, I reached the stage of "acceptance." When I came back here, I felt strong and happy, and I didn't need the relationship anymore. The relationship had been a great part of my life, but it was gone now, and I had fond memories of it to reflect on and smile about. The relationship would always live on in my heart. It was okay.
Today, I went to pick up a few last boxes that were left at Michael's place. He was busy on the phone when I arrived, and at first not very helpful with locating a box I couldn't find, and while he did eventually get off the phone, find the box, and even instigate small talk...
...I felt a flare of anger. It was so strange. I didn't like it. But, something about that last feeling of everything being out, all ties being cut, and his total comfort with it...it kind of pissed me off. I don't know what I was expecting. Somewhat sad, but accepting gazes as we put the last box in the car and I drove away? I don't know. Blah. I don't like feelings I'm not used to.
I'm just going to keep breathing and try to get back to that "acceptance" bit.
The "denial" stage was quite interesting for Michael and I. The relationship was gone, but we were still living in the apartment together. It was easy to pretend that everything was okay, that the relationship hadn't died. We even maintained the "facebook status" until I moved out. Denial was easy and hard in its own ways...I do remember not sleeping well, and crying to myself a lot...but I also remember the comfort of feeling like everything at least "looked" okay. Perhaps I was "bargaining" a little, even, trading the appearance of a relationship for an actual one, when the actual one didn't work.
I skipped over "anger," I think, because it's just not in me. Michael skipped it at first and went to "bargaining" when I moved out, wanting a friends-with-benefits type of relationship even though the romance, and honestly, the love, weren't there. I couldn't do it. That's when he went to "anger". I could feel it in his texts. I could hear things he did and said through friends. On the rare phone call, I could hear it myself. It was hard not to jump right in and be angry with him, but I didn't want to go down that path, and so...
I became depressed instead. I have a history of depression in my life, so it was a familiar fallback after denial and once Michael had taken to anger. I was comfortable in my depression, imagining different ways to inflict death upon myself each night before bed. Even better if that death came while I was rescuing Michael somehow. I wouldn't actually do it, and on really bad nights I would call Wade, who would keep me company on the phone until I fell asleep. I have to say, while depression is...depressing...it doesn't scare me much anymore. It's a sadly comfortable place.
And then, magically, at some point during the Europe trip, I reached the stage of "acceptance." When I came back here, I felt strong and happy, and I didn't need the relationship anymore. The relationship had been a great part of my life, but it was gone now, and I had fond memories of it to reflect on and smile about. The relationship would always live on in my heart. It was okay.
Today, I went to pick up a few last boxes that were left at Michael's place. He was busy on the phone when I arrived, and at first not very helpful with locating a box I couldn't find, and while he did eventually get off the phone, find the box, and even instigate small talk...
...I felt a flare of anger. It was so strange. I didn't like it. But, something about that last feeling of everything being out, all ties being cut, and his total comfort with it...it kind of pissed me off. I don't know what I was expecting. Somewhat sad, but accepting gazes as we put the last box in the car and I drove away? I don't know. Blah. I don't like feelings I'm not used to.
I'm just going to keep breathing and try to get back to that "acceptance" bit.