The end of a relationship is rarely an easy one, at least if that relationship had substance and there was a mutual love and respect there at one time (even if neither were present at the end.) Even those with the purest intentions to remain friends and be civil hit the critical and unavoidable point where they fall off the cliff of kindness and civility into a pit of rage, hatred, emotional exhaustion and resentment. I have seen this happen without fail to countless marriages and relationships, and I always thought that it would never happen to me. I am sad to say, I like many before me and many after have fallen into that pit, and the way back out is vast and daunting.
In my head, I always assumed friendship and love would win out and that with some sort of mutual respect and co-operation, if I ever did reach a point where the relationship would end, I would rise above like some kind of valiant conqueror of breakup or divorce generalizations and pitfalls. But, the process that comes before the actual severing of ties is a gradual one, and it snowballs with little annoyances and larger issues until the weight of it is too strong to carry. For those who do not experience the added bonus category of jealousy, betrayal and depression, it is not necessarily easier, it is just categorically different although I fall into the first camp, and from where I sit I miss the days of not feeling deceived, jealous and enraged. The early days of working with one another and leaning on one another for emotional support and the reassurance that we were both feeling depressed over the loss seem like a distant memory. The entire relationship often feels like some bygone era that I have read about but don’t actually remember, and I feel like the 3rd generation member of a family feuding with another family over events that I wasn’t even alive to witness, nor were anyone else I know, yet a distorted false memory forms in the absence of experience and the rage still stand and the hate still floods my gut.
Why do we do this to ourselves? This question has long been asked and I don’t have the frame of mind or intellect to answer it, but I can only say it is like a drug. Love and comfort are these intense drugs that change your mental state and you lose track of your physical body and become one with another being seemingly across all space and time. You forget you ever had a past, and the future is simply this moment. But drugs end, or bad trips happen, and detoxing off of that drug is the most painful, excruciating process man can know. It is mental, physical, even spiritual. It takes every molecule of my body to do simple tasks like walk, talk or eat (which I don’t do much of these days.) All of my spare energy is spent on hoping the pain will end, hoping the hate and love will stop changing so quickly, hoping to salvage the relationship, hoping to stop hoping to salvage the relationship, and so on.
I have made a point of documenting all of this because I think it matters. It will matter to me in the future, it matters to me now, and I believe that somewhere out there someone is going through what I am and they will think these thoughts and feel this pain and maybe read words much like mine and know they will be ok. And it’s ok to feel so horrible and to wish away the abysmal, insufferable state of hate and longing. Sooner or later, I hope these pages will do that for me. They will remind me that you cannot love someone who does not love you back, and that you cannot love or even be friends with someone who has lost the claim to your trust. The moment I realize that, this blog will have served its purpose and I will end it, the same way I created it; out of the blue with no explanation except that it was right for the time.