As he packed his bags and I locked myself in the bathroom to hide away from it I began to cry. Without warning the tears dried up, I prodded at my feelings, testing to see if they hurt. The tears were real but was the heartbreak? The more I prodded, the less I felt. Then I began to wonder if I was simply a cold hearted bitch. Is it just women that think this way? I’m not sure. Maybe men do too. Cold hearted bitch status was confirmed when I checked my watch and thought well if he finishes packing and is out of the door within the next 20 minutes I’ll be able to watch Coronation Street without feeling guilty.
So we had broken up and I had broken his heart. The crushing weight of responsibility fell firmly on my shoulders yet I felt a desire to just shrug it off and move on. Cold hearted bitch. Yet what else to do? I could beat myself up for awhile but my mind cannot lie to itself, my mind knows it was time, it was the right thing to do so to berate myself whilst knowing I was doing so to salve my conscious makes it somewhat pointless. Like those people who do charity work and make sure it comes up in conversation. They want other people to think how good they are therefore it is no longer a selfless act and they know this. This will end up making them feel even less worthy than if they had just stayed at home and watched X factor like the rest of us.
I’m not saying I don’t feel bad because I do but at the same time I can’t help but look round at the empty bookshelves and wardrobe space and breathe a sigh of relief that I finally have more closet space.
In trying to redeem my self image I imagined it’s actually quite a brave thing to do. To bear the burden of someone else’s heart breaking. How many of us have friends that stay in relationships either for fear of the fall out or in fear of being alone and not for love? I know many. Perhaps I ought to think in a different way. It’s not that I stamped all over someone else’s heart today more that I had the courage to accept that the heart stamping was a necessary evil to make my own start beating again. Call me brave, call me cold hearted, take your pick.
Comments