All my Single Ladies!
Ah, the power of friendship.
I wake up this past Sunday around 7 am. The birds outside Sean’s window are orchestrating a flash mob dance party but Sean doesn’t seem to notice. I look at him all smushed up against his pillow, blonde hair pointing in all different directions. He’s beautiful.
My dog, Rocco, looks up at me. He knows I am awake because he knows everything. Rocco knows when I am having a bad dream, he knows when I have to pee in the middle of the night (he’s already waiting for me near the bathroom), and he knows when I am anxious. This morning, I am guilty of all three.
After a quick trip to the restroom, I flick at Sean’s window enough to stop the bird chatter. I hope I can get a little more sleep in.
But I don’t. I lie there on the bed awake for what has to be two hours. I can’t seem to get my latest dream out of my mind — knowing that it may soon become reality and Sean may really be gone from my grasp.
Soon, Sean is rolling around and little slits of bright blue are appearing from between his long eyelashes. He mumbles, “guh mumrin”. I brace myself.
For two hours we sit on his bed, hoping the cocoon of sheets entangling us can make the pain duller — like a tight bandage on a very large wound.
We talk about what happened the last six months, we talk about what will happen in the next two months, we talk about how beautiful each other looks in the morning, and we cry. Cry a lot. Like more than I have ever cried outside of a Disney theme park.
Driving away from his apartment, I can still taste his chapstick on my lips. My fingers fumble to my phone through blurred vision of salty waterfall tears. I call my sister, I call my mother (forgetting it’s Mother’s Day and that this is a shitty way to say “Happy Mother’s Day!”), and I call my girls.
Within an hour, I am sitting at my dining room table with Morgan and Lauren. Lauren has brought me food — with my history I am definitely at risk of leaving this “human necessity” behind for a few weeks — and Morgan has forced me out of bed. We’re just three young women, talking about life and boys and — oh yeah — that whole “break up thing”.
Another of my friends, Sarah, comes over.
It’s been hours of crying and I can finally take deep breaths, despite my eyes looking like those of a fly. I’m eating, and then I’m showering, and then I’m getting dressed and then I’m…okay. Just okay. One foot in front of the other.
Morgan calls me her hero, as she’s been with a really sweet man the last year and a half who isn’t right for her — and she knows it. She just hasn’t been sure enough to end things with him. But on this crazy Mother’s Day, with her girls behind her, she does.
My friends and I are all single now and we talk all day long about how we will always be there for each other. And I realize how much I wish I had that closeness in college when I was really sick, or high school before I went downhill. I am so lucky to be around people like them now: so smart, capable, beautiful, caring. We go for a walk to talk about the day and get some fresh air. And then we’re all shopping, and then we’re at a restaurant talking about hot men, and then we’re in a car belting out Britney Spears, and then I’m home again. Alone.
How do you move on from two years with someone you would have bet your life on marrying? How do you look at everything in your apartment again when everything was moved in and rearranged with him? How do you continue to wake up and go to sleep knowing that the other side of the bed is cold, empty, yet still smells like Old Spice deodorant and pancakes?
You just do. That’s how.
Posted on May 14, 2013, in fear, Love, Relationships and tagged best friends, boyfriends, break up, chatting, eating, friendships, girlfriends, love, marry, relationships, shopping, single, talking. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.