An Open Letter

It's been one day since we broke up. I've had an incredibly crushing pain in my chest pretty much since then and I've spent most of today trying not to cry, or going to my car, or walking and breaking down crying. It hurts really fucking bad even though I know that it's honestly for the best. I cry as much as I can and then I start to feel a little bit better for a little bit until I see something or I hear something that reminds me of her and it hurts all over again. I walked really far from my work in the middle of kind of nowhere and I looked down and I see UCSD health, and it reminds me of her. I remember on one of her dates she started to have a floater in her vision, and for her that’s potentially a sign of her retina detaching and so we left the bookstore and I took her straight to the specialist. I then sat with her for four hours, and I relayed all the information to her mom while trying to keep her anxiety down. Her genetic condition makes her life really fucking difficult. And I remember that I didn’t think about how she went blind how she might not be able to do any of the things she likes to do, or the things we do together, for the things she needs to do for money, but rather I thought about how I could maybe bring back some of the hobbies she has to her. Or how we could find new things together. I thought it would be a really sweet present as a surprise if I got myself tested for the gene that she has so that I can show her that we can have kids without the risk. I thought it was such a pure form of love.

I feel like my chest is crushed, and I can’t think. The grief is so fucking big. I think about the pictures of her, and almost all of my favorites are of her. There were a lot of really nice things. And there were also a lot of really bad things. And I wish it could’ve worked out, but what I mean by that is I wish that there bad things weren’t there. But you cannot pick and choose parts of a person.

I believe that in the future I will have a partner that is emotionally mature and listens to me and makes me feel safe. In the future I will not have to feel like I have to fully explained and archive my emotions as much, because hopefully they will have the knowledge and empathy required to understand a bit more. I think I’ll have a partner who will genuinely make me laugh in clever and smart ways that I get to steal. I’ll have someone who will teach me things also, and that will have meaningful and insightful conversations with me. I won’t feel like I’m being patronizing, and I won’t have to worry about stepping on any insecurities or ego. I will have a partner who values my feelings and interests as much as their own, if not more. I will have someone who is very thoughtful and take the time to truly understand me. I’ll have someone who is considerate to me and kind in minor ways, without asking for recognition. I will have a relationship where conflict could be resolved through effective conversation, both with understanding their own thoughts, but also compassion behind them. I will not feel like I am having a one-sided argument, and I will not feel like I have to regulate someone’s emotions for them.

It’s such a weird thing to have this grief. I both recognize that the relationship was not one that should’ve continued, and it is absolutely a good thing that it ended. I know that no matter what it is going to be incredibly painful to end, even if that is the right decision. But that exists in a part of my mind, that remains un mixed like oil and water. And next to it are all of the beautiful memories. All of the sweet and kind things that she did. And how loved I felt. How much I felt like she tried, and how many times I felt hope.

I think during the relationship I got swept up in a lot of the fantasy of what the future could look like. And I think that’s part of what I’m mourning so much. I don’t know what to do with all of these sweet memories and little things that I didn’t even know I remembered until now. And it’s just a wave after a wave that hits me. It sucks because the highs were so high. She really was a drug to me.

I have a feeling that time will heal this, but it’s terrified because time happens so slowly. And I just wanna know what I can do to stop this feeling because it kills me so much. I feel so horribly sick to my stomach. There were a lot of things that I didn’t like about her, not in the sense that like they were big issues at all but just things that I wasn’t crazy about.

I started writing more things on the list of things I didn’t like, and also fundamental reasons why the relationship would not work out. I feel cruel doing it from being honest, but I need some sort of a way to leave this nostalgia behind. I can always return to the place of the nostalgia, but there will be nothing left. There will not be the illusion that things could just be getting better and this was just a perfect storm, or that this would be the last time these issues happen and then we would be good. Issues just kept happening, and perfect storms just kept happening. At some point there is too much coincidence and I have to acknowledge the fact that past behavior is the best indication of future behavior.

I am absolutely a good partner, and a catch. I don’t think I’m perfect, and I don’t think that I wouldn’t hurt a partner accidentally, but I think that I have shown a consistent commitment to listening and understanding my partner, and I have the tools and the drive to change. I also believe that I am attractive, I am kind, I am genuine, I am funny, I am successful, I am generous, I am very loving, and I think that I am happy with the person that I am. And that person includes the fact that I want to consistently continue to improve as a person, and this relationship has shown me several ways where that is important.

I think a big thing I learned was how easy it is for me to fall into codependency. I absolutely struggled with loneliness when I moved here. And in a way I am grateful for the pain that comes from this entire situation because that both taught me how important it is, while also reminding myself that I absolutely have the tools to find and foster connection. I’m thankful that I have friends around me, and I’m thankful that I know that I will survive this. It’s absolutely going to hurt, but this isn’t just the price of good things. This is serving as a reminder and an incentive for my mind to recognize the hard choices that I needed to make along the way, and the things that I need to look at in myself. Every day will be easier than the last. At least in the amortized sense. I won’t have to worry about fixing the current issue, if me talking with someone else or spending time with someone else leads to their stabilization, if that destabilization leads to her interacting with bad groups of people online, like e daters, or feeling the anxiety and fear of not knowing what she is hiding from me. My sister said something very hopeful, there are actually a lot of good families out there. There will be plenty of kind families that will welcome me with kindness and the same sense of inclusion that E’s family did. There was nothing in E that is unique and unobtainable again. I may not find all of the same things in a partner, but my wants will change too.

If nothing else I’ve learned how easy it is for me to love. I don’t need someone to be my everything, I don’t need them to like all of my hobbies, and share all the same interests. I’m grateful for that experience since it let me learn firsthand both the good and bad things with that. I have faith it will be ok in the end.