It’s over when it’s
over
Ain’t it baby ain’t
it.
This post will not be on my Facebook page. I will not put it
on my Twitter feed. I probably won’t even talk about it in person. If you ask
me about it, I’ll awkwardly change the subject about something else.
Did you know we had six inches of rain last night in Wichita? Ten
inches just south of here.
Okay, back to the topic at hand.
I wrote that after I spent a night crying in my house, a
house I had just bought. I went upstairs to unpack my books. I thought,
if books can’t make me happy then nothing could make me happy.
I bought my house after a relationship failed. He never
stepped foot in my house, but I talked to him about the process. When my offer
on the house was accepted, he heard about it. He saw pictures of it.
Rips ya like a dagger
Can it baby, can it
I pictured him visiting, standing in my house, on my front
porch, in my back yard, hanging out with my family while barbecuing. I pictured
a future, which I’m pretty sure is a common thing in every relationship.
Wish we could do it
over
Damn it baby, damn it
And then that never happened. As my previous blog post
spelled out, he didn't stay, which is fine. You don’t have to stay.
You are free to leave whenever you want to.
We had it in the air,
we just couldn’t land it
Leaving is easy. Leaving someone without warning is even
easier. You don’t have to deal with the flood after the storm. You can leave
while it’s raining and go in the opposite direction of the storm into the
sunshine.
You leave disaster in your path. And maybe your rear view
mirror is broken. Maybe you don’t care about looking back.
It’s the first snap,
of the last draw
Where regrets outlast
the alcohol
Part of the reason this is hard on me is because I’m in the
city that he lives in. There are times when I don’t think about him at all,
like when I take my nieces to a football game, to the zoo, or have sleepovers
with them.
And then, other times, he’s everywhere.
It’s a cold sweat, in
an empty bed
And dreams are like a
knife
When you’re hanging by
a thread
We met here for a date. We went there for a date. We talked
about the future. And then, without much warning at all, it was suddenly taken
away.
I’ve been kind of a nutcase ever since. I’m better now, but
there’s always going to be a little part of me that’s a little broken.
And no, maybe we can
make it if we just play the right cards
When my friends break up with people, I always tell them
encouraging stuff.
You’ll find someone better.
He was a loser anyway.
I never liked him.
There are other fish in the sea.
You deserve someone better.
Now it’s over when
it’s over
Ain’t it baby, ain’t
it
Rips ya like a dagger
Can it baby, can it
Oddly enough, I don’t actually believe any of those things
about my own life. I don’t understand how you can basically throw an entire
human being away, like a piece of garbage. I don’t understand how you can do
that and not be bothered by it.
I was a piece of trash that he easily disposed
of.
Our relationship was not long, if it was even a relationship
at all. It doesn’t even seem real. None of my good friends met him (red flag
alert!). I never met his family (another red flag alert!). I don’t have much
evidence this relationship, if that’s what it was, even existed at all.
Was it even real? It was on my end. Whether it was on his
end is a question that I will never have an answer to.
It’s like someone died without their photo ever being taken.
It’s a white flag
It’s a stop sign
It’s the last long
drag on a Marlboro Light
It’s a long night,
beatin’ up the past
Now when the first
lie, is gonna hit you back
This ain’t no gone for
good drill
Or no goodbye for tomorrow,
it’s over
Part of the conference I’m attending is talking about
several leadership competencies. The speaker told us this morning that we need
to speak to loss.
I’m sure she meant in a workplace setting and not a whiny
overly attached ex-girlfriend situation, but I’m going to take her advice to
heart anyhow.
This is a loss.
I’m getting to the age where a successful relationship means
marriage and children. For a moment, however brief it may have been, I had that
hope.
And then that was taken from me and given to someone else. (Who
knows, maybe he’s giving it to several other people – pun intended. Ooh snap!)
It wasn’t my choice. I didn’t even have a say in it.
Yeah it’s over
Yeah it’s over
And that’s probably the worst feeling in the world.
There ain’t no better
way
We could make it work
It’s a blank page
When you’re outta
words
Yeah it’s a flat line
It’s a heart attack
Yeah it’s too far gone
to be shocked back
It’s a one way, with
nowhere to turn
It’s a no breaks,
baby, crash and burn
Ain’t no map gonna
ever bring us back
From where we are
I’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget he ever happened.
I’ve spent a lot of time wondering when I’ll forget about him. I’ve tried to
delete everything that ever reminded me of him.
But I can’t delete the spot we first kissed. I can’t delete
the places we went on dates. I can’t delete the spot he looked at pictures of
my house. I can’t delete the spot we first “met” for our first date, because
that’s the spot I’m at right now, crying.
I’m not doing a good job of deleting him.
It’s just over when
it’s over
Ain’t it baby, ain’t
it
Rips ya like a dagger
Can it baby, can it
Wish we could do it
over
Damn it, baby, damn it
Had it in the air, but
just couldn’t land it
Maybe people aren’t meant to be deleted. Maybe I’ll remember
him forever. Maybe the reason he was placed in my life to begin with was to
teach me how not to treat people.
I will never do what he did to me to another person. I don’t
have it in me.
Rips ya like a dagger
Can it baby, can it
Wish we could do it
over, damn it baby damn it
I’m hardly the first person in the world to have suffered a
broken heart. As I’m looking around this wonderful, large group of women, I
have to stop myself because I want to ask them questions.
How long does it hurt? How do you get over it? There is
someone better out there, right?
Had it in the air, we just couldn't land it
On Sunday morning when I woke up, I had no hot water. None, whatsoever, not even an ounce of it. 
