The Breakup Song

For anyone having gotten their hearts smashed in. It happens to the best of us. Keep on keeping on.

When you fall in love it’s beautiful. Your senses are in a daze. You’re ignorant to suggestions from outsiders watching the scene, and only you know that what you’re doing is the right thing. You don’t notice the abuse that may follow, excuses are your best friend for his inflicting pain. Life is twisted so that normal healthy relationships seem foreign or problematic. You project.

1. I’m calling you Snowflake

We were at a gas station filling his Caddy. Snowflakes had just broken through the midnight sky. He pulled me out of the car and danced with me. It was the first snow of the year in the heart of Texas. That’s why it was so special. This is how it started.

It was late and I had just gotten off work. I was in my very early twenties. Most nights ended in drunken fun. I had brought a friend with me to the club and saw this cute guy standing in line. He had a friend with him making it easy for me to approach. We spent the night together and by day two we were already joined at the hip. Meeting a guy at the club is never a good sign. It just means one of you wants to get laid and probably will.

The relationship was young and immature. We didn’t go out on actual dates, rather, we’d call or stop by to see the other and just ended up hanging out. His friends leared my name quickly as did mine. The boyfriend/girlfriend routine came easy and so we accepted it.

Two weeks into the relationship I dropped a bomb on him. I’d been raised by a stout Christian woman and always wanted to wait until I was married to have sex. Dialing his number all I said was, “I am quitting smoking and want to practice being celibate.” I slipped that last piece of information in there as easily as possible hoping he wouldn’t hear it or that it was no big deal. To my shock his reply was, “Ok, if that’s what you want that’s fine. Thanks for telling me this over the phone.” Sure I could have talked to him about this face to face but it’s easier to drop a load like this when you’re not in person. The words have a better chance of being spoken.

He moved in with me, we slept next to each other but never had sex. It was great and I was in heaven. It was an ignorant heaven but I didn’t care. I was in love.

Towards the middle of the year we spent together I kept myself busy. Fourty hour work weeks, a full-time class load with the local junior college, and hours spent donating plasma for money to spend on a trip up north. He slept away from the house most nights, hanging with his buddies or working in the nearby city. I should have known at this point that we were just roommates, but I was in love and “knew” he would be faithful.

My world crashed when I found the truth. We’d lived together for a year, and I never noticed. He was addicted to crack and my traveling cash, the money that came from my veins, the money that I’d been saving so that after being a thousand miles plus away from my family for two years I could finally go home for a visit, was gone. Stolen. He never came back to the house. Or rather, had he tried, I’d refused to let him in.

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We allow men to break our spirits. We compromise for their sake. I don’t understand why we do it. Do we think we deserve their attention? Do we question our ability to find someone that cares enough to allow us to dream? Are women refused to achieve? Stepping out into the world is dangerous and scary. It is full of unknown risks and adventures. I wonder if we push those wants away from our minds only to latch onto the security of a man that plugs himself into one place, one frame of mind, one nothingness, because he will keep us safe. It’s miserable if you think about it.

2. He was an All American Boy

An All American believes in stereotypes. He invents creative stories so that people are unable to piece his story together. His ideal image is to obtain a business degree from his football scholarship, work for corporate America, become a member of a Pentecostal church, have a long haired Mary Sue as his wife, and 2.5 kids with the dog in the back yard. He wears his wife on his arm as a delicate trophy, only there for his handling.

You can’t know that he has sex out of wedlock then ridicules the harlot for beguiling him with her advances. You can’t know that he tricked his high school girlfriend into wedding him so he could have a green card. You can’t know that he’s still married but has a live-in girlfriend. You can’t know that his two legs were amputated while crossing under a railroad track reaching for U.S. residency.

I was his trophy once. I wore dresses and light makeup, accompanied him to his church, my hair grew longer than I wanted, and was straightened on the top flipping outward with curls on the bottom. Just the way he liked it.

I felt pity for him. I thought I could add new ideas to his mind. I wanted to help him see the beauties he was missing out on because of his blinded ignorance. That poor boy was completely hopeless when it came to coming to opening up about himself. He approached me. He was cute and I thought, also interesting.

He wasn’t my type. He was the guy that was clean shaven, with a crew cut. We were opposites. I’m liberal Catholic and he fit in with the Pentacostals. According to most of them I was already going to hell so it was weird for everyone to see us together. They probably thought he was going to convert me.

Our first date turned out to be a purly physical thing. We had dinner and talked for a while. This was the type of conversation that really seems to penetrate. We hit the good questions that scream, “I like you and want to know more of you.” Later that night we drove down to the race track and enjoyed some heavy groping. We stayed at second base. This didn’t seem like a bad first “getting to know you” kind of date. I thought we would be seeing each other again and soon. He seemed to be really into me. Truth is, these All American types test girls like me. He wanted to see how far I would go. It was the first of many annoying tests. He had no intention of following up for another date and it wasn’t until the next day that I realized this.

I was on campus assisting with some upcoming projects. He’s walking nearby and joins with a buddy of his at a nearby booth. He only glanced in my direction as he passed me. I was only worth a glance!  We both knew what happened last night and he proceeded to act like it was no big deal. Fuming, I intruded on his damned conversation.

I knew his buddy and decided to sit with the two of them. I wasn’t going anywhere until I had, had it out with him. We were finally alone.

I ask him, “What’s up?”

Simple and casual, no agenda. He lazily replies, refusing to mention anything from the previous night. I bring it up. I ask him, when I should expect to hear from him again.

He says, “Well, the truth is, I wasn’t expecting to see you further than last night. I only wanted to see how far I could go with you.”

I still don’t understand it. When a man insults you, such as this one, why are we still interested? What compels us to respond positively to the bait?

We were boyfriend/girlfriend for seven months when I finally broke it off. Sense finally kicked through the stupid. During that relationship, or whatever you want to call it, I was tested, I was insulted, I was degraded. I felt low. But I took it and let it roll off my shoulder.

The breaking point hit the switch after a trip to the mall. We were looking for jeans. The mall had a sunglass hut that sold specialy prepared glasses known as Oakleys. I laugh when I hear of people spending three hundred dollars on a pair of glasses that aren’t prescription, but that’s just me. He was baffled when I told him I’d never heard of the damned things and insisted we check out the shop. Apparently, he owned three. But so does every All American types. If it’s expensive, it becomes a must have.

We approach the sales clerk who was just as crazed as All American about Oakleys. I become the cockroach in a room full of Crème brûlée. I had no right to be there in the presence of these highly inflated sunglasses and the two of them made me know it. I really didn’t care and laughed, being sure to inform them that the two of them were clueless and needed to get out more.

I was still laughing about their foolish priorities when we got to the clothing store.

He brought me with him to look at clothes and so I did. One of the first things I do when I see a descent item of clothing is to check the price tag. While perusing the jeans I happened to glance a pile of discounted jeans. The store had items on sale. It made sense to me to save a buck, but suggest the same to him and it was if you were explaining the most sophisticated theoretical concepts of our time. He just didn’t get it.

Finally becoming embrassed by my interest in saving him a few dimes he apologized to a nearby shopping clerk, explaining that I was from Detroit.

I decided at that point to use his resources to get to Indiana. I’d been accepted into a prestigious school and mentioned it day in and day out. It riled his senses to think I could aspire into something greater than he and I enjoyed dangling that reminder in front of him.

He taught me to play the games of relationships. I can’t say I was ever thankful for the lesson. I ended it, the second I moved back north. Once located away from his bullshit I didn’t need him anymore. And for that I was thankful.

He tested me once more during our last week. I was just unpacking, when he suggested we break up. I said okay and hung up the phone, relieved it was over. He showed up on my doorstep 5 days later. He’d jumped onto the first plane he could to tell me it was a test to see if we could make it. Apparently I had failed another of his meaningless tests. I told him he was foolish and said he needed to leave. Telling me his ticket wouldn’t allow him to depart until the next day I sympathetically spread out a blanket on the floor. He left for Texas the next day leaving a note suggesting I was a spawn from hell, and proceeded to thoroughly defame my character upon his return in Texas. I’d learned this last part through a call from a friend. She refused to maintain her friendship with me after what he’d said. I was just glad to escape Texas, finally. Arrogant fools.

Life gives you lessons you don’t want. It is time to pay attention to the message and wise up. Men will use and abuse. But, it can be avoided. Men and women have made their lives work with each other for centuries. Follow your guides in life and avoid the pitfalls.

Reviews

[Elleannatasha]

I love the way you write...

[Jack V.]

Aweee you're very kind. Thank you :)