The first stages of a break-up.

So, I already messed up. My boyfriend and I broke up last Wednesday and we've already hung out like 3 times. It's important for people to make a clean break and just be done, that's the best way to cut off the attachment centers of the brain even though it's definitely the hardest. It's literally like being an addict going through withdrawals. You don't think that that one more hit could hurt, but fuck it makes it way worse when you cut it off for good. 

He's a really good guy. Just not the boyfriend for me - you know? I wish that we could stay friends but that's a pretty trash idea right now especially because we're both madly in love with each other. He was really fucking smart but we just had too much baggage. But I tell you what... he is a great friend. Thats how we started! Being like best friends, then we confessed our love, did long distance, I moved to Washington, DC - the whole nine. Our one year anniversary hit and I just couldn't do it anymore.

After not inviting him to my college graduation (probably best in hindsight) things just started to go downhill. Our whole relationship he would bring up past fights or issues but this was bad. A lot of the times if I even brought up going back to LA for my graduation it only became about him not being invited, not about me being stoked or anything. I get that he was mad, and hurt, but this was not his place.

ANYWAY - I got back to DC after grad and was just being a total piece of shit. I think that my resentment from the year of fighting was just building up and I was fucking over it, dude. 

So on a gloomy and humid Wednesday, I bit the bullet and cried the whole way through. He was really sweet but understandably surprised and hurt. We said our tearful goodbyes on the street in between Nats Stadium and an abandoned sewage treatment plant and I went to the corner store near my house to get a Twix, Vitamin Water, and Tonight Dough Ben and Jerry's. In this moment I was the quintessential stereotypical female after a break up. 

A few days, the whole series of "Life In Pieces" and a lot of dark chocolate pretzels later I had to work from 11am to 3am (I have an internship and then work at a bar - so it's a long Friday). I get a text at 8:30pm from my roommate saying there's a box and flowers at my door and it would be waiting for when I got home. After hours of agonizing over what could be in it I finally made it home. 

In the box was all of my stuff from his place, flowers, and a 35 page note to us. I have never read something more sweet, kind, beautiful, apologetic, or heartwarming in all of my life and I was a wreck. Here's the guy I'm in love with saying that he wont stop fighting for me no matter what. I caved, I called, I cried. 

We had breakfast the next day and a whirlwind of emotions, talks, beers and Pictionary lead me to remembering how amazing it used to be with him. We had so much fun that night and reminded me how we used to be. And that was the saddest part of it all. It couldn't be like that again. Too much has happened, too much has been said, and we had both been hurt much too often. 

It's now only the Tuesday after so I'm going to keep you updated but if you couldn't tell. That realization fucking sucks and I feel like I'll be hurt and crying forever. 

Okay, baaaiiiiii.