I'll Get Over You

When I no longer cared to ask Mike for what I needed anymore, that's when the work began. 

I watched him go through four well-paying jobs in three years, having no savings to account for. In the past four months, I observed him mentioning another woman's name non-stop, and his ever-growing longing for his high school years (40 years ago). He always found reasons to leave the house but never wanted to go anywhere with me anymore. I knew he was already single again in his mind. 

I'm not a fan of prolonging discomfort and unhappiness in any relationship, so I knew I had to cut ties since he wouldn't. Fortunately for me, I was assured by a loving family who assured me that my peace of mind was worth protecting regardless of who was - or wasn't - in my life. 

It also helped that I had a steady job that paid for the car and house that were in my name. I made sure to secure resources for myself after my divorce left me destitute, a few years before I met Mike. I'm proud that I took steps to make sure that I am okay, relationship or not.

The breakup happened after Mike told me that the latest job was paying him a handsome salary with company benefits, including a car. Despite being ready to let the relationship go, I still wanted him to be okay, so I believed what he told me and took it as a sign that he would be fine. This is the fourth job, and as far as I know he still has it. For his sake, I hope so.

My breaking point was that he wanted the car to travel for training on the same week my school had scheduled interviews for me. It irked me that he was put out by not having use of the car that I'm paying for. That helped make the separation so much easier.

It took him almost a week to move out. During this time, he went through different emotions, changing between sad, angry, desolate, resigned, and frustrated. In stark contrast, I didn't display much in front of him, my job and schoolwork keeping my mind occupied, I guess.

I'm a bit surprised with myself that I felt more relief than sadness after he had moved out the last of his things. I thought I would be sad, but the feeling I had caught me off guard. I was relieved. Not only that, I hadn't realized how anxious I had been, as if a proverbial weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It seemed like my mind and body were in a state of much needed rest.

It wasn't until after he moved out that the weight of the breakup hit me. One of the things Mike did was to wash the dishes. The sponge and dish soap were on the right, hand soap was on the left. For reasons I can't explain, washing dishes made me more sad than it should've. They're just dishes after all, right?

One piece of advice my family gave me is to rearrange things whenever I feel stuck. Big or small, the change in routine seems to rewire the mind, shaking up routines enough to move forward.

Still, I was surprised that something as simple as switching the dish soap and the hand soap was a small but effective way for me to get through the days since the breakup with less trauma. After 10 days, I put everything back where it was before. It was a small action that helped me a great deal. Let the healing continue.