My First Blog

There is a moment in your life when you realize you are being broken up with. I am 22, and I have never been broken up with before. I have always broken up with boys before they could break me. But in that moment, in those few moments, as he spoke to me, I realized, I was being broken up with. For the first time in my life, I was learning what it felt like to be told ‘I don’t love you anymore.’

That’s not necessarily what the man sitting across the table from me was saying, but it is definitely what it felt like. I don’t know what the worst part was abot it either. Maybe it was the casual way he addressed the conversation, or the way he refused to look me in the eye as he told me, or even the sheer fact that he told me at lunch in a Super Subby’s. Instead of looking me in the eye, he took bites of his stupid sandwich and stared down at the basket it came in. With a mouth full of food, he told me over and over.

He has been that way my entire life. Casual, and unresponsive, absolutely detached from the situation. Completely unaware of the way people around him are feeling. Or maybe it is just plain ignorance, and he chooses to pretend like he had no idea of what the words he is saying may feel like to me. Maybe it’s his way of never having to accept the consequences of his words and actions. He can just ignore it all together and pretend like I am okay when I am not, and have never been, okay. The way he told me was as if he had come out of his room on Christmas morning and decided to wear green instead of red this year. That was the worst part. And then I realized, after a few seconds, and a mere sentence or two, I was being told I wasn’t good enough, that he had to have more. That was the way it had been my entire life, and this was just another heartbreak I had to deal with, I told myself.