New Year's Scar

I suppose it was good for me in the end. You know, what ever doesn’t kill you, blah, blah, blah. I’m sure most everyone has had that one person that really broke their heart. The one that made you question your sanity. The break up that almost killed you.

I've always gone for the off beat, quirky kind of girl. The one that’s so cute in the Romantic Comedy. Spontaneous, dramatic, and full of spunk; Kate Winslet in Eternal Sunshine; Natalie Portman in Garden State… The one who says, “Let’s go bar hopping on 14th Street… right now… I know we both have to wake up for work in 4 hours, but who cares, let’s go!”; or “Let’s drive to the Casinos in West Virginia, right now, in the middle of a blizzard…”

That’s the girl I always fell for. And that’s the girl I got. Every moment a screaming roller coaster ride. We'd spend 3 tortuous hours breaking up on Friday Night then I'd wake to her tapping on my window early Saturday morning, “Let‘s work it out!”

It was a relationship that I knew would never work, but I put 2 years of my life into it anyway… It didn't make sense on any level, but I did it. That probably says a lot about who I was at the time.

Sometimes the relationship was ure bliss, sometimes it scared the hell out of me… There were many times when I just wanted the ride to end. "Please for the love of god stop this ride so I can get off and walk away."

So when that inevitable final breakup came… “this time we’re really, really going to be done.. for good,” you would think that when that happened I would have been prepared.

I was the one who begged off the ride, so it should have come as no surprise when the ride stopped. Right? But that’s not how these things work.

I got what I wanted, sure, but I became a depressing shell of the person when I got it. Maybe it’s because of the way we broke up.

The last 4 months were a series of breakups that actually became one long breakup. We broke up so many times that I don’t even remember exactly how it ended. Seriously, I can't pinpoint a specific conversation or fight that ended it all. It’s all kind of mashed together and I can’t tell where one breakup began and one ended.

I have no memory of that last teary eyed goodbye kiss… the last thing she said… was it yelling and screaming, was it sad, was it peaceful? I don’t know. We had everyone of those breakups at least two times. The last one could have been any of those scenarios.

What I do remember is that when it was all over, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to answer the phone, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. All I wanted to do was lay under the covers in my dark bedroom and listen to “A Long December” by Counting Crows, over, and over, and over again.

At one point I was seriously contemplating quitting my job, selling all my possessions, and just walking aimlessly across the country… seriously. I even checked into what routes would be the best to take... And then I remembered that I hate hiking, don’t like sleeping outdoors, and have a phobia of using public restrooms. That was the end of my “Walk Across America” idea.

The point is, even though the walk never materialized, I was so irrational at the time that I actually gave that idea real consideration.

I stopped caring about work, friends, family… everything. When my depressing spiral finally ended I was broke, bitter, and moving back in with my mother until I could get back on my feet. It was not a great way to end my year.

It took me the better part of a year to get back to anything close to my old self. That was a long time ago but still, I find my thoughts drifting back to her this time of year. Where is she? How is she? Does she think about me?

I’m a different person then the guy she knew. I have a wife. I have commitments and responsibilities. And I’m a happier person then I ever remember being back then. My life has changed in ways I had never imagined. Has hers?

The pain isn’t really there anymore. Thinking about it all now is like looking at a scar… a really nasty one. But it doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t even want to think about it necessarily, it just happens around the new year. It’s like taking off your clothes to step in the shower- you catch the brief glimpse of your scar in the mirror and you remember the moment, the accident.

I hope it feels that way for her too. I hope her scar is just as deep and just as jagged as the one that marks me... But I also hope that, like mine, it has finally healed.