Stupid Self-Destructive Cycle

I just purchased a book called "Six-Word Memoirs on Love & Heartbreak".  Today, my six-word memoir reads: "He broke up with broken me."

It hurts.  Bad.  The kind of hurt that makes you physically double over as though the rest of your body can somehow protect your heart.  I bought a lot of self-help books.  I've called a lot of friends.  I've closed my office door to keep the world at bay.  Right now I am just getting through every minute because everyone says that time will make it better.

He wasn't that nice to me.  He was actually quite critical.  He was amazingly stable.  He was genuine.  And for reasons that I have yet to uncover deep in my psyche, I fell head over heels in love with him.

Even though it is unhealthy, I have lived this last week as though he might come back to me.  If only I am better, if I only I can be less broken, if only I can be more independent, if only I could make him accept me the way I accept him.  That's a lot of if-only's.

I'm not sure what stage of the loss-grief cycle I am in right now.  But I am desperately trying to burst out of my pink bubble and float down to reality.

Reality is:
I lied to him
He doesn't trust me
He doesn't love me
He does not want me back
We will never be a "we" again
I cannot take back anything that I did

Reality is also:
He had tantrums like a child
He took more than he gave
He is demeaning
He is critical
He is gone

Reality is also:
I have a beautiful daughter
I have inner resources
I have a stable job
I have friends
I have God

And quite importantly at this juncture, I can realize that my brokenness can be reassembled into a beautiful, colorful mosaic. "If only" I try just hard enough and let go and just not try at all, as well.