miles from here

i don’t think i will ever forget the image of last night, of standing in my living room, dark clouds through the windows forming a background to my yellow living room lights, his polo shirt stained with my tears and leaking mascara, feeling stupid in my birthday dress and camp galleria boots, being dumped on my birthday, still not admitting that i was in the sort of relationship that i could be dumped. and it wasn’t an outright, clean cut break. it was jagged and harsh and “let’s still be friends” and i was the one forced to make the decision to end it. staring at my turtles to avoid making eye contact. struggling to find words to not only explain the pain, but to make him feel it—to such an extent that he would change his mind. realizing the feeling of defeat, those familiar waves of “it’s over” that have washed over me for the last few months, increasing in frequency and size the last few weeks. and then the habitual reflex of the other half of me screaming shrilly and sharply that i couldn’t let it go; do whatever he asks, take whatever losses you have to, just stay—just make it work somehow. what sealed the deal was when he said that he had to leave to make beef stroganoff. just the name of the meal carried with it the harsh slap of unimportance—it didn’t matter that it was my birthday, that i was in tears, that i was feeling broken and worthless, for he had more important things to do. i retreated to my bedroom, praying he would follow, say sorry, try to alleviate the pain. the sound of my apartment door closing was the most loud, hollow, echoing, painful sound i’ve ever heard. it hurt more than the dull thud of my head being smashed amid a car rollover. i could feel fiery hands tearing at my heart and my chest, ripping it apart. i felt poignant despair. i kicked myself for being so stupid. i stood up, shook off my dress, and went to join my family for a jovial steak dinner celebration.

it was a great first day of being 22. if this is being an adult, i don’t want to be here.  

[title from *fin by anberlin]


  1. I'm so sorry this happened to you on your birthday, I hope you feel better and find a guy who will treat you great.