Found, Lost and Found Again

I positively crave the first breakup in every relationship (if a relationship is healthy, the second one, aka the serious one may not happen). Oh, don’t look so scandalized. I have a perfectly good analogy for it.

The first breakup (for whatever reason) feels the worst. It is the first time in the relationship you start to lose hope; it not only gets you down but also feels like you may never recover. Your heart breaks into a million pieces and tears are shed. Not just out of sadness but anger that it ended so soon. What have you done to deserve this? How did it go wrong so quickly?

Now, now I’m not a sadist (*coughs*). The night after the breakup is the night of intense retrospection. This is the make-you or break-you night. This is the night where you realize what a fucking idiot you are to let the best thing that happened to you leave. This is the night when your mighty ego surrenders to the power of overwhelming love. This is the night you realize it was a hasty decision and that you can live with some flaws. This is the night you NEVER want repeated.

After even more tears and what-ifs in your head, the morning brings some semblance of resolve. Your mind is clearer. You aren’t hungry yet but sipping tea provides a warm hope. By the time the cup is drained of its contents, you know you need to act fast. If an apology can mend the void in your heart and pit in your stomach, its all worth it. You get ready on auto-pilot. Grab the phone and keys and walk with tenacity.

Yeah, so here’s the other thing. In a healthy relationship, your partner has gone through all of the things you have. Maybe one of you was the bigger idiot but the following kisses are equally hungry and the hugs are equally tight. I live for these moments of realization that an argument has much less value than spending your time with this person. I adore the make up sessions. I absolutely love the incredible joy of having this person again after all hope was lost. This is when you KNOW you don’t want to let go.