Broken Hearts

It's Called A Break Up Because It's Broken

Once upon a very very long time ago, I was a 27 year old hot piece of ass. I had the world at my finger tips. I had it all - the beauty, the brains, the body, the job, the car, the apartment, the...you get the point. I was young, beautiful and ready to take over the world until I made one terrible misstep. Fuckface.

Fuckface was my demise...ok, I let Fuckface be my demise. I had convinced myself that I was in love with him. I wasn't though. It was all ego. I just couldn't understand why an old, fat, short man with adult acne, short T-Rex arms who wasn't funny, smart and was poor as fuck didn't want me. So there I stayed constantly tap dancing, selling myself on how great I was to a man who thought that I was, at best, ordinary. It took me SEVEN LONG MOTHER FUCKING years to get over that selfish fat fuck...and my impossible ego.

I tried everything to get over him. While the truth is nothing really worked until I decided I had enough with living the way I had been, there was something that kinda helped me through the process.

Now brace yourself because what I'm about to say helped me is not only kinda cliche but it's also pretty lame. I used to read a book about break ups. Not a big deal? Well, I read it more than once. Waiting for it to get worse? It was called, "It's Called A Break Up Because It's Broken" written by the same dude who wrote, "He's Just Not That Into You"

I can feel the judgement...hell, I'm even judging myself.

In the past when I was really down and I thought I was really determined to let Fuckface go, I'd read through it. I was convinced it had the key I needed to break free. Eventually I realized, like that bitch Dorothy, that I had the power to leave all along. I just needed to believe in myself.

I still took a lot from that book. They said a lot of shit, that no matter how lame it is, made a lot of sense. I believe in that book so much that anytime a friend was going through a heartbreak, which is pretty often, I'd send them a copy of it.

It's been almost 3 weeks since I've seen or talked to Lullabies. THREE WEEKS. Not only is that a record breaking streak, it's also been pretty easy to stay away until...

Last Friday I was driving to meet my family for a baseball game. I've been pretty stoked about it since it's my beloved Giants and they haven't played here since the 2010 World Series. On my way to my mom's, I started to tear up. Thoughts of him, how excited I was, how much I wished he was going, how the ticket my little brother's girlfriend was using was really bought for him all flooded my mind. So miserable that when anything good happens, I only want him at my side. So I allowed myself a good cry and pulled it together for the game.

On my way back home I was high on the game, the Giants, time with my family and well, ok beer. My thoughts couldn't have been further away from Lullabies and then it hit me. Like a swift unexpected a kick to the back of the head, Lullabies is seeing someone.

I have no evidence to support my theory nor do I intend to go looking for it. But I know with every fiber of my being that as I type this, there is someone else in his arms. She's getting his toothy grin and goofy laugh. She's getting all the kisses that were once mine. And tonight, it will be her that's laying on his chest falling asleep to the rhythm of his heart, smelling the scent of his skin all while being tangled up in him. You're probably wondering how I know all of this if I haven't talked to him; especially since this man has ZERO social media presence. I can't stalk and keep tabs on him like my exs do to me. But I do. From the day we met, we have always had this uncanny, unexplainable connection to each other that defies all reason and logic. It's pretty fucked up honestly.

If only I could shake this "know" in me that I was created for him.  I want to shake it...and him off. Just get past all of this shit. So I took out my rusty, trusty copy of, "It's Called A Break Up Because It's Broken" and started reading it...but reading it this time is very different.

I'm not trying to take it in fast so I can get drunk on the words. I don't feel the key to letting him go is hiden in it.  I just feel sad. Hopeless. Broken and I can't stop crying. For the first time, I feel the words, their sentiments, the heartbreak and the pain. I am truly heart broken. I know now this book was written for people who feel like I do right now. Man how it stings.

While I'm not peeling through the pages looking for the key to release me from him, I can say for the first time, I can feel myself flirting with the thought of hope. Hope that maybe reading it this time, may have something to soothe my soul and bring enough peace to my heart to push through the darkness, even if it's just for tonight.

Peace, Love & Baseball,