The worst. Literally the worst possible thing that could have happened in my healing during this break up has happened.
I went to happy hour, feeling like I was moving beyond the sadness, hope was out there, I was alive and well in it. Then I went to the store. Randomly. 8:00pm and 2 margaritas later.
And I saw him. Actually I saw his car first. Fully packed with two road bikes, one significantly smaller than his and a car full of camping gear. It was the margaritas that made me go inside. I walked straight to the cough drop section, that was the reason I drove there in the first place, and there he was, standing next to a cute brown-haired climber girl. He turned toward me, something akin to terror registering on his face before saying hello. I left, got into my car and drove home through a torrential downpour of betrayal and disbelief. I spent the rest of the night drinking whiskey as my friend and I paced the sidewalks. Two weeks ago he moved out and asked that I not foreclosure on the possibility of getting back together. Disbelief doesn’t cover it.
The anger is overwhelming. I have visions of slashing his tires and chucking hard objects at his head. How could he do this to me? This man who wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, who cried because he was sure he’d never find anyone as amazing as I. The loop replays in my head. Over and over. Me seeing the van. Parking. Going inside. Seeing them. Leaving…repeated, again and again.
Then it is followed by some phantom conversation that I wish I had had. The things I wish I had thrown. the words I wish I had spat at him, and at her, and what I would say now or what i would say if he calls me, comes to my house, I run into him again, tries to contact my family. A thousand scenarios played out in my mind. It’s poison.
“Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” -Buddha