As a psychology student, I know better than to be an advocate for cathartic behaviors, but it might have actually worked. I’ve been dealing with an awful, unexpected breakup since November of last year. The guy, whom I still consider the love of my life, just dipped out. Things weren’t perfect in our careers, so a lot of uncomfortable conversation were built around our frustrations. One day, he decided, not to respond to me anymore. Needless to say I took it pretty hard. Aside the technicalities of a relationship, it’s just plain out rude to not tell someone you’re having second thoughts. Especially if this is a person you’ve discussed future plans with, wedding colors, home buying narrowed down to areas considering the safety of children, etc. etc.
I spent the first two months crying, a shit ton. Sometimes I hysterically woke from nightmares. Sometimes I was in line at Popeye’s. I had absolutely no self-control. To top things off, the quality of my presence was being questioned at work, which brought on another set of anxieties. I could feel the stress in my body; everything from my head to my back held tension. My skin started flaring up in acne and hives, but I continued to ignore healing. I didn’t leave my room much, and had a head full of hair to hide behind when I absolutely had to.
One day my mom FaceTimed me in the middle of a breakdown and she was fed up. It’s not that what she said that was new, but the way she said it hit a nerve. I was worrying her and she wasn’t sure I was going to be okay. I had to get it together.
A few weeks later, I began writing again. I needed to compartmentalize the emotion and logic of it all because my life, in every aspect, was in complete disarray. As I wrote, I realized how much time had passed and my urge to uncontrollably cry had faded. I had to consciously think about what happened in order to cry, so I created a Spotify playlist titled “Sad Girls ENT”. Songs like Stressed Out by A Tribe Called Quest and Save Me by Nicki Minaj provoked and expressed exactly how I felt. I was able to give the situation one last “hoorah” and write eloquently with the best of my inspiration. Editing made me realize how annoyed I’d become with myself for being so consumed in another person. Love or not, I couldn’t blame him for my state anymore. This was self-pity and sabotage. I had been wasting my own time.
Then, I got mad and got a gym membership. And when I say mad, I mean you’d think I was a 6 foot something body builder because ‘do not talk to me I’m doing something’. I appreciate what my body currently looks like, and I’m only a few weeks in.
With my short narrative complete, hoping but also not caring if he reads, I can move forward without that closure I thought I needed from him. Am I still in love with him? Of course. We had a relationship that crossed over 6 years and now that we’re adults, I believed the next step was forever. But, life comes at you fast man. The only thing we can count on is change. Our job is to not stand strong, but to learn fluidity. So if that means going through a million emotions for weeks and months and sometimes years, then do so. But look up every now and again and remind yourself of the time you don’t have anymore. And when you sit in silence, remind yourself of the blessings in your past, to get the most out of your present.
Author: Quasia Elle
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Quasia Elle is a young writer living in New Jersey, working out of the Jersey/NYC areas. She is currently working on her own online publication, in which she’s hopeful will change the conversation millennials have amongst each other and the actions in which they act upon.
Link to social media or website: http://WordOfAFeather.tumblr.com
