hard to do

For all my big talk about making changes and living a brand
new life that is full of wonderful things, some of these huge changes are
hard, and I hate them. Some of them feel terrible and are hard to talk about.
Some of them, I chickened out of talking about. Yesterday, I wrote all about
how I got a brand new job, and I am so excited and it so great and my life is
all in upheaval, and backspaced the part with the real upheaval, the part I
cannot stop thinking about, the part where I told you about how Guy and I broke

See how I am just steps away from Tijuana? I don’t want to be just steps away
from Tijuana. I
still don’t want to be a cliché, someone who thinks she deserves better now
that she is skinny and the world is suddenly her delicious, protein-laden
oyster for the plucking and other irritating mixed metaphors like that. I want
to take you by the shoulders and swear to you no–I am not like that. I wouldn’t
do that. I wouldn’t do something so extreme for such petty reasons, and I
wouldn’t hurt someone for selfish, shallow reasons, and you’ve got to believe
me that it was the hardest decision I’ve ever made, and the most difficult thing
I’ve ever done.

We talked, the Monday after we got back from New York, sitting in the back patio of the
bar, out in the cold, where we had had our first date four years ago. He bought me a drink, and
held my hand, and it got darker as we talked. I couldn’t look at him, and he hung on to my hand as we talked, and it was the most difficult conversation of my life. I was the
one who broke up with him, and he apologized
to me. How do you live through that? You live through it. You feel like an
asshole, for telling someone you love them, and that they mean the world to
you, and that they are wonderful, but that it’s not enough. You tell someone you are not enough, and you hate
yourself for it. You hate that he is comforting you, when he should be angry at
you, and blaming you. He is telling you he understands, and you want to hit him,
to punch him, to tell him to yell at you, because it feels like you deserve it.

I miss him. How can I not? He’s been my best friend for four
years, a constant in my life. This has been coming on for a long while now, and I
hate that I didn’t have the courage to say something months ago, a year ago. He
told me he saw it coming, and he knew what had to happen, but he didn’t want to
lose me, and he thought we could make it work. We couldn’t make it work.

I have slowly been coming around to the idea that maybe I
really do deserve to be happy. Maybe I’m allowed to do the difficult things
that make me feel dramatic and miserable, that make me want to tell you I’m
dying by inches, and everything hurts, and it feels like nothing is every going
to be okay. Maybe I’m allowed to wallow, for awhile, and be ridiculous, comparing the guilt to
army ants under my skin. Maybe I’m allowed to sit and wait through this and
maybe I’m allowed to think that this was the right decision–it was the right decision, I know it
was–and that I’m going to be okay, and he’s going to be okay, and that I will
find what I need, and what I had always been looking for.

16 Replies to “hard to do”

  1. Nooooooo! But why? He seemed like a great guy! Sorry. It is, of course, none of my damn business. But you have been writing about your life for the public and I, as a reader, feel somewhat involved, and that was my honest first reaction.

  2. Penny, I’d like to jump in and say that Guy IS a great guy. But that’s never the whole equation. There are always lots of factors beyond loving someone and them being great, you know?

  3. Ah, geez, it must be difficult, feeling you have to come and tell us all your hard stuff. But your honesty and willingness to share are really wonderful.

    “I have slowly been coming around to the idea that maybe I really do deserve to be happy.”

    “I’m allowed to think that this was the right decision—it was the right decision, I know it was—and that I’m going to be okay, and he’s going to be okay, and that I will find what I need, and what I had always been looking for.”

    Our situations weren’t the same, your Guy is–from all you’ve told us–very different from my ex-husband, my reasons for leaving very different, I’m sure.

    But these quotes of yours I have cut and pasted above, I could have written these. These are mine too, and I understand.

    I now live with the best guy ever, and have for almost four years, and it’s been almost five years since I left my marriage, feeling guilty and sad but also liberated and excited. I deserved the happiness I now have, damn it, and no one can tell me otherwise.

    I’m sorry, I know it was a painful decision and I know at least some of what you’re feeling right now. But as you inevitably look back and examine and assess, also look forward.

    This world is yours for the taking. Go pluck your protein-laden oyster. I’m sad for you, for this tough time, but I’m also happy for you.

    And he’ll be fine, so don’t feel you have to carry that. You’re a good person. You deserve the best.

  4. Wow. I’m so sorry. What else can I say? Except that this doesn’t make you a cliche and you’re still fabulous — it’s just that now you’re fabulous and in the midst of a sucky episode of life.


  5. You are absolutely allowed to wallow, and for as long as you need to be able to get yourself through this difficult time. There is no question that you deserve every bit of happiness that this life can give you and then some. And in the end, you will be okay though I know it has to be hard as hell to see that at this very moment when the pain of the separation is so damned vivid and fresh.

    I am thinking of you and sending along all of the love my heart can hold, fabulous girl. Be kind to yourself, okay?


  6. I’m sorry you’re hurting but I’m proud of you. You did the right thing. The brave thing. And being brave hurts like a motherfucker.

    I promise you’re going to feel better soon, and long before you find everything you’ve a
    always been looking for.

    big hug,

  7. And just so no one thinks I’m a cold hearted witch — I meant that last bit with a lot of warmth and love; not bitterness or cynicism.

    You WILL find everything you’ve been looking for…and you will feel better more quickly than you think.

  8. man…i’ve had rough breakups….and this is a horrible time…i know. been there…..as you already know (but can’t feel right now) it will get better with time….

    “”Afterwhile, afterwhile
    this too shall past
    scars will heal, you’ll love again
    it won’t hurt you afterwhile

    stuck between if and when
    you prayed and tried
    but still no end
    God’s purpose soon you’ll understand
    it won’t hurt you afterwhile

    so when the pain has come to end
    and now your heart is whole again
    help someone who needs to know
    that it won’t hurt them afterwhile””

    This song in particular helped me through a very, very difficult breakup in January of this year.

    It will get better.

  9. Breakups are hard. And sometimes, right. And sometimes, wrong.

    Deserve to be happy, yes.
    But – deserve to love and be loved. Deserve to have compatibility on major life issues, like say kids and what city to live in. There are Good Reasons to break up with your Best Friend.

    My concern, ineptly put, is that happiness is an elusive goal. Like the statistic that we all think we will achieve happiness with a salary 10% more than what we’re earning. Dissatisfaction with what you have is sometimes a reason to try harder. The other way I think about this is an episode of “Mad about You” where Paul says to the wife regarding her infertility that he’s not going to leave her because “what happens to you, happens to me; if you are infertile, we are infertile”. It has to flow both ways, and I imagine that a lot of post-WLS breakups happen because the WLS partner has been the one doing the accommodating (out of fear, habit).

    I feel angry about your decision, angry because Guy spent a lot of time and energy helping you through the months after surgery and when you get better is when you’re supposed to give back, angry at the implicit short-sightedness of “I deserve to be happy” (which sounds like the excitement and energy of a new relationship, the honeymoon phase), and worried, very worried, that you are deciding that something that made you happy for 4 years suddenly doesn’t cut it. It seems, that is, like a bad time to be making big decisions; it reminds me of a breakup I initiated at a time when my life was in major flux and which I second-guessed for at least a year after. And when I stopped second-guessing it was not because I finally believed I’d made the right decision but because it finally seemed like something I had no power to un-do. So my concern is probably more about me than about you, but still I will feel better if I say it: If you can find a way not to burn your bridges, if you can find a way not to decide permanently, please consider it.

  10. I always say that love has everything and nothing to do with it. As long as you’re making decisions with a clear mind, and it feels right to you – again, doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or says.

    Thanks for sharing!

  11. RG–from your perspective, I understand that it looks like I broke off a perfect and happy relationship for selfish reasons.

    But maybe you can go ahead and do me the favor of considering other possibilities–that it wasn’t a perfect relationship, that I certainly wasn’t going to discuss my relationship problems in a public forum, and even that this is something that had been a long time coming, long before I had even considered weight loss surgery.

    Thank you for your concern, which I really do understand, but it was an agonizing, mutual decision, you have no idea what occurred, and especially not enough information to tell me whether my–our–decision was right or wrong.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *