Hello Heartbreak, My Old Friend
Funny how things can change in the span of 24 hours.
This exchange happened about a week after my birthday with my partner of 4 months. Here’s my view of the story. And like all stories, I have to start at the very beginning.
I joined OKCupid in January of 2022 because I thought that it was about time I start putting myself out there more in hopes of a relationship. Luckily, I swiped right on a very handsome and cute man. Out of respect for his privacy, his name will be Ryan. Ryan’s such a cutie. He has this boy-next-door kind of look to him despite being 17 years older than me. The man’s a bona fide nerd, too. He has a passion for chess to the point where he would participate in competitions. And I will attest to this: he’s really good. He has piercing blue eyes, a full set of straight teeth, and the most adorable wrinkles on the corners of his eyes that appear when he smiles. His profile said to message him if “you’re a kind compassionate human being” and if “you’re emotionally mature” among other things. Needless to say I had to shoot my shot.
And so I did. I complimented him on his cute picture with his dog and he gave me some compliments on my pole dancing. The messages were exchanged over the span of 9 months since neither of us really used the app diligently. We’re busy adults, so whatever. At some point in the conversation I decided to give him my number so that we could chat a little more efficiently. I was on my way to pole class when I got a text saying, “Hey, this is Ryan from OKC.” And for a second I forgot who it was because I gave him my number 2 months prior to that message. After realizing who the cutie was on the other side of the screen, I engaged and we set up a date.
Upon first meeting, I felt sparks. He knew how to communicate and speak really well. His smile made me buckle at the knees. He was so intelligent and funny and kept up with my sense of humor. He told me about how he believes in the scientific method even when it comes to relationships. By that he meant that if something isn’t working and we’re not getting the desired results he would approach the problem from a different direction and try again until the desired results are achieved. This kind of sentiment gave me hope that this guy was the real deal. When our arm hairs touched my imagination started running wild. Oh my god, this guy is so fucking hot. After a few cocktails in, I had worked up the courage to be straight up about what I wanted to do. I asked Ryan if I could kiss him. And we both leaned in to what I can only describe as the best kiss in the whole world that it felt like the world had disappeared for a few minutes. I was smitten.
We kept in contact almost every day after that. I mean there would be times where I was left on read for a couple days, and I wouldn’t hear back until two days after. This was already bothering me, but I was thinking to myself if this is just my anxious attachment at work and I need to check that. I brushed it off as “some people are just bad at texting.”
On our third date, which was right around his birthday two months after the first date, that’s when we finally had sex. Now, normally when I have sex, it’s just straight up fucking. My brain turns off, and I go on autopilot. It’s almost like a routine for me. It takes the spontaneity and excitement out of it, but it gets the job done. But when Ryan and I had sex, I don’t think we had sex. I think we made love. What an amazing birthday gift for him, huh? The warmth of his body, the way he moaned in my ear, the sweat dripping from his brow; everything was almost like an out-of-body experience. And I cannot properly describe the simultaneous orgasm that we had. As we both came and I ejaculated into him, Ryan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his head started convulsing, and he came all over his torso without me even stroking him. The orgasm was intense and it had been a while since I felt that kind of connection with anyone. And when I say a while, I would say about six years since my previous boyfriend made me feel that. It was nothing short of spiritual.
The next morning he texted me to say how amazing that was and that was the best orgasm he’s ever had in his life. I said, “Well, that’s what you get for having sex with a sex educator.” Every time Ryan and I would hang out, it would always end up with us having sex. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Our sexual appetites were insatiable.
Around the holidays, we had decided that we’re going to call each other boyfriends since that’s what it felt like. It was nice to hear someone call me their boyfriend after not hearing that for so long. My heart soared. Ryan invited me over to his place to have a poly social with his partner of five years, Callie, and her boyfriend, Eric. The four of us had such a beautiful time gathered around the dinner table talking the night away and eating delicious Thai food and wrapped up the evening doing meditative yoga. One of Ryan’s quirks is that when he’s in a happy mood, he sings the Sesame Street theme song. As we’re still cleaning up, Ryan heads upstairs to the shower and I subtly hear him sing the song. I didn’t know that it was his happy tune. This made me fall in love with him even more because Sesame Street was my absolute favorite show as a kid. I told him how pleasantly surprised I was to hear him sing that. I head to the bedroom and Ryan joins me shortly after his shower. I asked him why he was singing that specific tune. Ryan says, “Well, it’s because I’m really happy. This is the first time that we’ve ever done this sort of poly dinner social. And I’m here, in bed, with my boyfriend.” And we proceeded to make love through the night, and I decided to spend the night.
The next morning, Eric and I were the first ones awake at around 8am. Ryan and Callie are still sleeping and didn’t get up until around 11. While they slept, we decided to prepare a beautiful breakfast of miscellaneous cheeses, banana pancakes, and fruits and yogurt as a sign of gratitude for them welcoming us in their home. Before we wrapped up the day, the four of us decided to sit down on the floor of the living room and do a quick breathing exercise to express our gratitude to each other. We each went in a circle talking about what we really liked about the weekend and what we hope to repeat the next time we do this. I was last. And when it finally came to me, I wasn’t sure what came over me as tears started to roll down my face. I cried for what felt like an eternity. I cried my heart out and tried my best to stifle my sobs, but resistance was futile. I cried because it had been such a long time since I felt that kind of loving, caring, happy, and kind energy. I could not remember the last time I felt that kind of love from a romantic partner. That was the first time I’ve ever cried in front of a boyfriend. I was terrified what he was going to think of me, and all my insecurities melted when he came in to hug me and kiss me on my forehead. This was how I knew I was in love.
Fast forward a month later and my 30th birthday was right around the corner. A few weeks before my actual birthday, Ryan had text me saying how he has a few ideas for my birthday. He made a reservation at a gourmet Filipino restaurant, he wanted me to stay the night so we could have sex all night long, and he would take the next morning off from work so we could cuddle and have breakfast in bed. It was also on my birthday where he called me his partner. I consider being called a partner to be such an honor, a step above boyfriend. To me a partner is someone who I can emotionally rely on. I can communicate with my partner and talk things through without ever having to be scared of getting hurt because I know a partner would be willing to work through whatever it was we’re going through. The server brought us a complimentary dessert with a candle on it, and I made a wish. Ryan asked me what it was. I told him that my wish is to love fearlessly because in the last four months I had been scared to tell him what I was really feeling. But hearing him call me his partner gave me the courage to tell him that I loved him and that he’s my partner as well. My heart was racing and I felt a lump form in my throat because I was mortified that I had said “I love you” out loud not knowing how he would react. He lifted my chin and gave me the softest kiss on the lips to reassure me everything was going to be okay. I felt it. I knew that we would go the distance. He was my partner.
A week later and the screenshot of the above exchange happened.
What the fuck, right? Where was this coming from? I was totally blindsided. My heart started to shatter. I felt literal pain in my stomach. I was bent over my toilet throwing up. I didn’t know what was going on. If you had ever been on the receiving end of this text, then you know the pain. I can’t describe it. The closest word that I can think of is devastation. But even then I don’t think that can accurately say what I felt. On paper and from everything I had experienced on my end, it looked like things were going well. You read my story. It doesn’t sound like anything went wrong, did it? I was screaming, I was confused, and I was traumatized.
He left me on read.
The man that talked about emotional maturity and the scientific method just broke up with me over text. A grown man has broken up with me over text. The last time that happened to me was in high school. But never have I ever experienced being dumped like this as an adult. I felt humiliated. This is the most undignified way to break up with someone. I thought our relationship, sorry, partnership, mattered to us. I thought we could work things through. As I write this I’m still wondering what happened to us. What did I do? Where did it all go wrong? What could I have done to stop this from happening? I can’t think clearly.
As I write this I’m still processing. I’m still grieving. How could anybody do this? This was unkind and selfish. This was cowardly. But most of all, this was painful. I don’t know how someone that I loved, and still love, could be so cold and callous toward me. I thought we were partners. I thought that there would be some time set aside to talk about the relationship and make it work. But instead I was treated with as much disposability as used tissue. I hate this feeling, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been trying to get out of a really bad depression as my antidepressants have stopped working, my anxiety is through the roof, and I haven’t been able to get a full night’s sleep. When my friends ask me how I’m doing, I hate getting asked that question because it puts the onus on me to say, “I’m fine” when everything is not. And if I do say I’m not doing fine, then I’m the negative one putting a damper on everyone’s day. So normally I say that I’m doing fine. But this time, I’m actually allowed to feel like I’m not fine. Because my heart is broken. So my friends ask me what’s going on and I tell them that I’ve been dumped over text. The responses I get are a variation of the following:
“Oh, fuck him. He’s a piece of shit.”
“You’re strong, you’re going to get through it.”
“Don’t say he dumped you because that’s a defeatist attitude. You broke up.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, it must be tough.”
“You’ll find another one, don’t worry.”
I know that these all seem like they’re coming from a good place, but if I hear one of these platitudes one more time I will kill myself. People are giving me their unsolicited comments and advice disguised as help, but I know that this is just social expectations. These are canned responses to help quell the pain of heartache. I know these are all coming with good intentions, but this is not what I need to hear. I know I’m going to be okay. I was okay before Ryan, I’ll be okay after him. What I need to know is that I’m not crazy for feeling this pain that makes my body literally ache in my joints. I need someone to listen to me and tell me my pain is real and valid. I need someone to just be there for me and listen to my story. I just need someone to ask me what I need.
Over the last few therapy sessions, I have drawn a few conclusions that would help me move forward.
I should not expect Ryan’s apology as a source of healing as the one who hurt me cannot be the one to heal me.
While what he did was extremely hurtful, he did what he thought was right with what resources he knew. I cannot fault a person for doing what they think is the correct course of action.
There’s no such thing as good or bad people. There’s just people who try to go a lot of good but fuck up sometimes. And when people fuck up they try to make it not so bad.
Despite this break up feeling open ended, loss of interest is closure.
I self-abandoned in the pursuit of love. I enmeshed myself because I thought I could find my worth as a person in my role as Ryan’s partner. I.E., If I was a good partner, then I’m a good person.
Finally, we don’t owe each other forgiveness. Forgiveness is not a moral obligation. You can hold on to a grudge for however long you so choose. However, the world is already so unforgiving especially to queer people. While I can’t wait for his apology so that I can forgive him, I owe it to myself and to my healing to forgive him. Ryan, if you ever see this and feel any sense of remorse of guilt over how much pain you’ve caused me, I forgive you.
I’m in a fragile and painful place right now. I’m not exactly sure how long this is going to be. The man that hurt me is also the same man that I still love very deeply. I feel that I have to force myself out of love in order for me to move on, but I know that forcing myself to lose feelings for someone I care about is impossible. I’ve imagined in my head how a conversation between us would go and the many directions it could take. How would we move forward? Does he still get to be part of my life? Are we going to be friends? Fuck buddies? There’s so many possibilities on how that hypothetical conversation would go, but there’s no point in me imagining that. I have to heal.
Right now, it’s important for me to acknowledge this pain I’m feeling and find my footing. I need to rediscover what self-love is like. I need Tim to love me. I’m going to be fine, I know it. But right now, this pain I feel is telling me something, and I need to pay attention.
I’m in pain, but I’ll be okay. Promise.
