What a negative, feeling-sorry-for-myself, grumpy title for a blog post, right! Well, although I might sound like a people hater, I think I am onto something…
Recently I went through a very heart wrenching, earth shattering, end of the world style breakup with my boyfriend. It was a big huge dumping, flat on my face. In the past, I have been the one doing the dumping (which, by the way, is a HELL of a lot easier). It was a new experience for me, and not one that I would wish upon anyone, not even my worst enemies. This boy was meant to be THE boy, and everyone could see how infatuated I was with him. When I came home from my first date with him, I kid you not, my mother was worried when she saw the crazy sparkle in my eye. Needless to say, it hurt.
I participated in an ancient break up ritual that thousands have women have been resorting to for years. I’m not sure if its an official ritual, but it damn should be. First step: Listening to Taylor Swift songs on repeat (I also printed out the lyrics so I could sing along whilst crying… what is wrong with me??). Second step: Swearing. A lot. Resulted in one very unimpressed mother. Third step: Destroying every piece of he-who-must-not-be-named from my life. This step involves deleting/burning photos, messages, items of clothing (except that Ralph Lauren t-shirt…. I will keep that thanks).
While I was buried under my blankets, sobbing in fetal position for those few days (…okay maybe a week… maybe two…), I had one visit from my friend. One. My whole world was just DESTROYED in front of my own eyes, and who cared? NOBODY. Zlich. Zero. Nada. Now I know what you are thinking, jeeez…. this girl is selfish! But let me remind you of the last time you had your heart torn into smithereens. It aint pretty. Maybe I am a slight drama queen, but I sent out a small group message to my best and dearest friends about my big, fat dumping. After few responses of “I’m so sorry to hear, I thought he was a keeper!”, or “everything happens for a reason”, I came to a realization. Do we REALLY care about the happenings of the people around us? Do we really sympathize enough? Empathize enough? I mean, roles had been reversed, would I have been at my friends door with chocolate, romantic comedy movies, and flowers? The answer is…. probably not. In reality, I think we are all so caught up in our own lives and business, that when a monumental event (like a break up) happens to someone we care about, we spare them a thought, maybe send a text message, and move on.
Now, I am going to get back to what really matters. Third step. Anyone got a spare fireplace?