Loving Someone Looks Like That

This is the (first part of the) story of a heartbreak that took me almost a year to fully honor, process, grieve and recover from.

A year ago today, I was debating if I should be the first one to say “I love you,” to a man I’d been steadily dating for nearly 9 months as we drove to his hometown where I would meet some of his family for the first time.

Two weeks later, I had been completely cut off from him- the man I felt I was in love with, never to talk to or see him again, and I was enrolled in a partial hospitalization program for my mental health.

This is the story of a heartbreak that took me almost a year to fully honor, process, grieve and recover from.

This is a multipart story. The other 3 posts are linked at the bottom of this one.

I didn’t set out dating to fall in love. I met Jay about 6 months after Scott and I officially called the marriage over. The conversation was easy, but it didn’t feel like a first date that would lead to a long-term relationship. He was nice, and funny, and felt safe, but not like instant fireworks.

As I’ve come to learn, though, the best connections are often the ones that don’t feel like fireworks at first.

It was a slow burn, and we slowly but surely fell into a rhythm of a relationship, though we were both very hesitant to label it as such- at least until his divorce was finalized in June.

I want you to know I just deleted paragraphs of carefully curated, vague details about his previous marriage and things he said to me about his ex wife. Not because I want praise, but because you’re just going to have to understand that there are large parts of this story that I don’t feel ok telling right now. Mostly, I want you to know this isn’t about her.

But, I mean, she is a character in this story.

She doesn’t appear to be a main character, though,- at least from my POV- until after many weekend getaways, and helping him redecorate his house, frozen daiquiris to-go while we strolled Costco, meeting his friends, live music, hours of couch cuddles, waking up in his arms nearly every weekend, holding him while he cried after his dad died, making a slideshow for his dad’s funeral, and a heck of a lot more before I finally joined him to head back to his childhood home and helped him sort through some of his dad’s things a year ago this week.

The sun set as we drove away from his hometown, and I remember so clearly looking at him and deciding I’d save my “I love you” for Christmas if he hadn’t said it yet. But I also wondered if he would be the first one before then, maybe the weekend we had a hotel booked and plans to see a live show, or maybe the weekend we talked about staying in Fredericksburg.

We both talked about December with so much hope. It had been a really rough few months, especially for him with the loss of his father. When I left his house the day before Thanksgiving, I was already impatient for the weekend when I’d see him again.

I was headed back so I could prep for the next day, and he had plenty of prep to do at his place, too. We were both spending the holiday with our exes and our kids, and I was thrilled for him because it was the first holiday his kids had both parents together in years.

We texted progress reports throughout the night, and he helped me with a half-frozen turkey SOS before we said goodnight to each other that Wednesday, and then we didn’t talk again until late Thursday night when I texted that I was thankful for him, and he said he thankful for all I had done, too. It was a short message, but we were both exhausted.

It wasn’t lost on me that this was his first holiday without his dad, either. So when he was super distant the next day, I didn’t think much about it other than he was likely feeling sad and not wanting to process that over the phone. But, when he didn’t reply to my texts or answer my calls by 9:30 pm that night, I began to panic and worry he was in a hospital.

While we weren’t in constant contact all the time, he at least let me know when he was going to be out of pocket in the past. It was unusual and it really set off my anxiety to the point that I started crying with relief when I got a text from him after 10 that he was fine and just had a few beers that afternoon and passed out on the couch.

“See you tomorrow?”
”Yeah”

I exhaled and felt dumb for letting myself get so worked up. I’d apologize for the freakout in person when he got to my place the next day, I figured. Then we’d have a relaxing weekend, and maybe I could get him to open up to me a little more about his grief.

Because loving someone sometimes looks like that.

___________

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4