The break up - the one thing everyone (or maybe not if you're really lucky) experiences. A feeling of distress, anger and then happiness. A weird feeling, something you don't know how to deal with. A feeling you wish you could screw up as a piece of paper as tight as you can and then throw it in the nearest bin, so it is gone forever. It is also a feeling of wanting to run back into their arms and hope everything can go back to normal and be 'ok', but it is not that easy.
There are hundreds of articles and blog posts online about how to survive the 'break up'. Buzzfeed made a listicle of "19 things everyone should do after a break up" with one of them being "have some cat cuddles," - unfortunately I do not own a cat.
Recently I experienced this universal feeling for the first time.
Stage one: Is this REALLY happening?
It all seems very surreal, like something out of a film that you saw last week with a Meerkat Movie voucher. Usually, in films the guy breaks up with the girl then they get back together or she meets a super-hot man the next day and they are suddenly married by the following week. Unfortunately, I don't feature in an American chick flick starring Zac Efron. Instead I sat in my room surrounded by '21st Birthday' wrapping paper which secured each of his birthday presents. He was thrilled with his ps4 game, 21st balloon and breakfast in bed which kept us full until early evening. I was a good girlfriend - maybe even too good.
"So we need to talk..." he said the following day on a Friday night as I laid in bed dreaming of the gin and tonic which would be touching my lips in only a matter of hours.
"About what? Tonight? What do you think I should wear?" I replied, propelling questions at him.
"This isn't working out," each word followed with a sniffle and a few tears.
"What isn't? The heating? Yeah I know! It is really cold..." This could not be happening, he was definitely talking about the cold and not about us.
"Look we can't be together," he said abruptly.
"WHAT?" I caught sight of my reflection, black liquid was smeared across my cheeks like splats from a paint brush.
"You'd be happier with someone else," and that's how it ended.
Stage two: Stalker alert
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it
Ok I did it. I checked his Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and Snapchat.
"Stop looking!" My friends would yell across the room as I sat on my phone vigorously trying to seek out another girl lurking in the background of his photos.
I just wanted to see his face, remember it. But then when I did see it, my face formed a frown, a look of disgust, like he was a creep that approached me on the street one night. It was weird, I looked at his face and felt like I didn't know him. He was a stranger and I wanted to keep it that way.
Days would pass, even months and I would still stalk him. I don't know if it is because I actually am a stalker or because I wanted to remind myself of how horrid this person/stranger was. The Daily Mail wrote, why we should never stalk our ex's and commented that "many of us resort to social media networks to discover what our exes are up to and who they're with in the hope they are unhappy without us". I hoped for exactly that.
Stage three: Crying your eyes out
The worst stage. I cried A LOT, but I wanted to. It was a way of getting rid of all the emotions that had been brewing inside of me for the past eight months. It was a way of finally letting go of it all.
According to Psychology Today there are "more than 3.9 million results" for how to get over a break up. The most important tip that these searches reveal is that you NEED to cry.
I cried in my uni bed, my bed at home, my friends' beds, my parent's bed, my sister's bed. But each time I cried I always felt a lot better. I would sit alone in my room making my brain over think and analyse every detail of the relationship until I found myself in floods of tears. My brain would tick like a cuckoo clock trying to think of something else my mind could ponder on. Then the cuckoo clock would finally call and I'd find myself crying over something so stupid - yet again.
"But what if I was nicer, or what if I did this or that," I'd cry, blaming the whole thing on myself. But that is not the right way to think. Sure cry as much as you want but never think of the 'what if's' - they won't get you anywhere.
Stage four: Feeling sassy
My favourite part. Each time I cried I felt awful like an abandoned toy that no one wanted, I felt worthless and this needed to change.
"Let's go out next Wednesday!" My friends had planned this big night out, in which I had no choice to back out off.
"I'll see how I feel," I replied sitting on the sofa trying to fight back the tears as we tucked into the Chinese takeaway we ordered to make me feel better.
"Don't let him stop you from going out and having fun!" My sister called, commanding me that I will in fact be going out.
I remember the first night I went out. It was all still fresh. It felt weird because I was single AND I could flirt with boys. I wore the most attractive outfit I could find, ensuring that whatever happened I looked good at all times. A black leather skirt partnered with a floral black top with an open back and heeled boots was always going to make for the best profile picture - and by no surprise it did. A few hours after uploading it to Facebook I received eighty six likes and eight comments. The comments ranging from "You look beautiful" to "slay girl" and "fireee". The classic comments girl's produce when their best friend has just gone through a breakup and you all team up and hate the boy.
I got ready listening to my "Sassy Shit" playlist which I had compiled over the space of a week. It holds every Beyonce song; including "Best Thing I Never Had" and "Irreplaceable" to name a few. It made me feel good, like a god, a sassy god.
Stage five: They come running back
The killer new profile picture worked. He came back.
Trust me in a few weeks he will come running back, they always do.
I heard this line at least twenty times, once from each of my close friends. I didn't believe them.
"I don't think he will," I'd say sniffling into the same used, worn tissue.
But each and every one of them were right. He did come running back but it was via email?
I received a text six weeks after the break up telling me to check my University email. He had to email because he had blocked me on every other form of social media and what he wanted to say was too long via text. I ignored the text and then my phone lit up with a notification: "Sian -please read".
W T F. My initial reaction. To be honest that was my reaction throughout the entire break up.
I opened the email and was surprised with an essay, a trilogy if you like of how he has "fucked up" and "regrets" his decision. You know all the usual bullshit. "I haven't stopped thinking about you for six weeks" and "everything I do reminds me of you" so can we "meet up?"
UH no you are six weeks too late!
I didn't reply to the email. I've got my sassy shit playlist so why do I need him back?
Stages complete:
Now it may seem like the hardest thing in the world to overcome but in hindsight it's really not. You will feel like shit, you will cry and you will want to punch them in the face, but this is all normal. The most important thing to do is not go back, stay strong. They are worthless to you now and you are free to do what you want. Being single is a time to reflect on what happened and move on and away from them. Focus on you and only you. Throughout the break up I felt hopeless, like a part of me was missing. I scrawled the internet trying to find the answers and to ensure myself that I will be ok. One that did help was an article by Huffington Post titled, "We Don't Always End Up With The Loves Of Our Lives (And That's Ok)". After reading it I felt like I could instantly let go of all the sadness that had built up inside, like letting go of a balloon and never seeing it again. Something to remember is, "sometimes love is not all there is".
*SIDENOTE*
I wrote this back in January and 7 months on I have never been happier. Being single was the best decision I have ever made! I got a job at uni, a first in this piece of coursework, my skin started to clear and I graduated with a 2:1 in English and creative writing. So here is a massive Shout out to my ex, thanks for being a dick and helping me in the long run.
Sian. X
There are hundreds of articles and blog posts online about how to survive the 'break up'. Buzzfeed made a listicle of "19 things everyone should do after a break up" with one of them being "have some cat cuddles," - unfortunately I do not own a cat.
Recently I experienced this universal feeling for the first time.
Stage one: Is this REALLY happening?
It all seems very surreal, like something out of a film that you saw last week with a Meerkat Movie voucher. Usually, in films the guy breaks up with the girl then they get back together or she meets a super-hot man the next day and they are suddenly married by the following week. Unfortunately, I don't feature in an American chick flick starring Zac Efron. Instead I sat in my room surrounded by '21st Birthday' wrapping paper which secured each of his birthday presents. He was thrilled with his ps4 game, 21st balloon and breakfast in bed which kept us full until early evening. I was a good girlfriend - maybe even too good.
"So we need to talk..." he said the following day on a Friday night as I laid in bed dreaming of the gin and tonic which would be touching my lips in only a matter of hours.
"About what? Tonight? What do you think I should wear?" I replied, propelling questions at him.
"This isn't working out," each word followed with a sniffle and a few tears.
"What isn't? The heating? Yeah I know! It is really cold..." This could not be happening, he was definitely talking about the cold and not about us.
"Look we can't be together," he said abruptly.
"WHAT?" I caught sight of my reflection, black liquid was smeared across my cheeks like splats from a paint brush.
"You'd be happier with someone else," and that's how it ended.
Stage two: Stalker alert
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it
Ok I did it. I checked his Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and Snapchat.
"Stop looking!" My friends would yell across the room as I sat on my phone vigorously trying to seek out another girl lurking in the background of his photos.
I just wanted to see his face, remember it. But then when I did see it, my face formed a frown, a look of disgust, like he was a creep that approached me on the street one night. It was weird, I looked at his face and felt like I didn't know him. He was a stranger and I wanted to keep it that way.
Days would pass, even months and I would still stalk him. I don't know if it is because I actually am a stalker or because I wanted to remind myself of how horrid this person/stranger was. The Daily Mail wrote, why we should never stalk our ex's and commented that "many of us resort to social media networks to discover what our exes are up to and who they're with in the hope they are unhappy without us". I hoped for exactly that.
Stage three: Crying your eyes out
The worst stage. I cried A LOT, but I wanted to. It was a way of getting rid of all the emotions that had been brewing inside of me for the past eight months. It was a way of finally letting go of it all.
According to Psychology Today there are "more than 3.9 million results" for how to get over a break up. The most important tip that these searches reveal is that you NEED to cry.
I cried in my uni bed, my bed at home, my friends' beds, my parent's bed, my sister's bed. But each time I cried I always felt a lot better. I would sit alone in my room making my brain over think and analyse every detail of the relationship until I found myself in floods of tears. My brain would tick like a cuckoo clock trying to think of something else my mind could ponder on. Then the cuckoo clock would finally call and I'd find myself crying over something so stupid - yet again.
"But what if I was nicer, or what if I did this or that," I'd cry, blaming the whole thing on myself. But that is not the right way to think. Sure cry as much as you want but never think of the 'what if's' - they won't get you anywhere.
Stage four: Feeling sassy
My favourite part. Each time I cried I felt awful like an abandoned toy that no one wanted, I felt worthless and this needed to change.
"Let's go out next Wednesday!" My friends had planned this big night out, in which I had no choice to back out off.
"I'll see how I feel," I replied sitting on the sofa trying to fight back the tears as we tucked into the Chinese takeaway we ordered to make me feel better.
"Don't let him stop you from going out and having fun!" My sister called, commanding me that I will in fact be going out.
I remember the first night I went out. It was all still fresh. It felt weird because I was single AND I could flirt with boys. I wore the most attractive outfit I could find, ensuring that whatever happened I looked good at all times. A black leather skirt partnered with a floral black top with an open back and heeled boots was always going to make for the best profile picture - and by no surprise it did. A few hours after uploading it to Facebook I received eighty six likes and eight comments. The comments ranging from "You look beautiful" to "slay girl" and "fireee". The classic comments girl's produce when their best friend has just gone through a breakup and you all team up and hate the boy.
I got ready listening to my "Sassy Shit" playlist which I had compiled over the space of a week. It holds every Beyonce song; including "Best Thing I Never Had" and "Irreplaceable" to name a few. It made me feel good, like a god, a sassy god.
Stage five: They come running back
The killer new profile picture worked. He came back.
Trust me in a few weeks he will come running back, they always do.
I heard this line at least twenty times, once from each of my close friends. I didn't believe them.
"I don't think he will," I'd say sniffling into the same used, worn tissue.
But each and every one of them were right. He did come running back but it was via email?
I received a text six weeks after the break up telling me to check my University email. He had to email because he had blocked me on every other form of social media and what he wanted to say was too long via text. I ignored the text and then my phone lit up with a notification: "Sian -please read".
W T F. My initial reaction. To be honest that was my reaction throughout the entire break up.
I opened the email and was surprised with an essay, a trilogy if you like of how he has "fucked up" and "regrets" his decision. You know all the usual bullshit. "I haven't stopped thinking about you for six weeks" and "everything I do reminds me of you" so can we "meet up?"
UH no you are six weeks too late!
I didn't reply to the email. I've got my sassy shit playlist so why do I need him back?
Stages complete:
Now it may seem like the hardest thing in the world to overcome but in hindsight it's really not. You will feel like shit, you will cry and you will want to punch them in the face, but this is all normal. The most important thing to do is not go back, stay strong. They are worthless to you now and you are free to do what you want. Being single is a time to reflect on what happened and move on and away from them. Focus on you and only you. Throughout the break up I felt hopeless, like a part of me was missing. I scrawled the internet trying to find the answers and to ensure myself that I will be ok. One that did help was an article by Huffington Post titled, "We Don't Always End Up With The Loves Of Our Lives (And That's Ok)". After reading it I felt like I could instantly let go of all the sadness that had built up inside, like letting go of a balloon and never seeing it again. Something to remember is, "sometimes love is not all there is".
*SIDENOTE*
I wrote this back in January and 7 months on I have never been happier. Being single was the best decision I have ever made! I got a job at uni, a first in this piece of coursework, my skin started to clear and I graduated with a 2:1 in English and creative writing. So here is a massive Shout out to my ex, thanks for being a dick and helping me in the long run.
Sian. X
