The Breakup (The Ballad of Christian and Kristin)
There is one thing that remains constant, that everyone shares, amongst relationships and love, and that's the breakup. We've all experienced this, ALL OF US. While each of us experiences this in our own way, and to different degrees, the general idea is the same. Well 2 days ago, i joined the breakup club. My new, yet prospering relationship of 5 1/2 months came to an end. I did the breaking up, but experienced all the heartache as if I were dumped. This may make sense to some, but to truly understand, I must take you back to the morning of August 13th of this year...
While the details are a bit fuzzy, as I had just arose from a deep sleep to my phone feverishly vibrating on my night stand. It was my girlfiend - who I had not spoken to in 2 days. She was in an emergency room, after just being hit by a bicycle. As that day continued, more and more details emerged. The final verdict - a depressed tibial plateau fracture. Essentially the top of her tibia where it meets the knee was shattered into a bunch of pieces and the bone was compressed pushing it far away from the joint. surgery was needed. So now what? The then girl I was just dating was injured. Where most guys might run the other way and not look back, i put on my helmet and gear and ran into the fire. I knew what I signed up for (or at least I thought I did).
The next few months would be a challenge, but I was up to it. Although we had talked about not labeling ourselves and just enjoying the moment, things change. Circumstances change. I asked her to be my official girlfriend to show her I wasnt going anywhere. She accepted. But this was no normal relationship. The days of us going out to restaurants all over the city, or taking walks, or doing any physical activity, were over. We were launched into a world of take out and one-sided travel. But I loved her... i love her... and it was something I was willing to do. It was not her choice, and I didnt blame her for it. I still dont.
Now here's where things get a bit tricky. I had recently helped her move from her 3rd floor williamsburg Brooklyn apartment to the Upper East Side apartment. Quite the upgrade, but with reason... she was going back to school. She had resigned from her job just a week ago. She had vacated her apartment to save money. And her former employer was gracious enough to let her move into a practically vacated apartment to be closer to school in exchange for the position as a personal assistant. Well, the accident put a major wrench in these plans. She decided to defer from school for a year. And while she agreed to still be a personal assistant, how much can you really do from the confinement of an apartment? So she was unemployed and injured living in someone elses apartment. Dont worry, it gets better.
She had surgery 2 short weeks later. Along with her dad, i escorted her the short trip around the corner from her Upper East Side residence to Lenox Hill Hospital. I hate hospitals... nothing good has ever come of me visiting people in a hospital. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her. After her successful surgery, I sat with her all night (even though the anesthesia prevents her from remembering). The next day after work, I went over to keep her company. She laid in bed, crying in my arms as teh meds wore off. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her.
Over the next few weeks she got better. At first, I would kneel at her bedside and help her do exercises. Soon, she would do them on her own. She could get around on crutches. I happen to have a wheelchair in my garage at home, so I lugged it from scotch plains NJ to manhattan one day. I wanted her to be able to get around. So then we had date nights again. I would wheel her around the upper east side to restaurants. Things were getting back to normal. I loved pushing her around. It made her happy and that made me happy. I was proud to have her in front of me... the hot looking girl in the chair. I invited her to a wedding of my friend - she danced. I would pick her up at her place and bring her to my place every so often - she liked the change of scenery, and frankly, so did I. After all, her place had more sun than a greenhouse. As fall set it, we went apple picking. Sure, she passed out in the orchard from dehydration (and didnt tell me until later to not get me upset) but she made an effort to be a normal girl, i can tell she did it not only for herself, but for me, because she loved me. I introduced her to my family. That's something i thought I would never do. But I wanted to show my family the girl I loved.
I know she loved me... i could feel it from her. She would always tell me she loved me, and I would say "I know, I can tell." She never understood how, but I could just feel it... in the way she looked at me... in the way she would touch me... in a kind of unspoken way that you only understand if youre the one being loved. I'm not sure if I ever gave her that feeling. The only thing we ever had in common was the fact that we had nothing in common, but that never mattered. When we were together, we just worked.
To be honest, she told me she loved me very early on, maybe too early. I knew I felt something for her, although at the time I wasnt sure if it was love. I mean, it had to be, I've known her for over 10 years, it had to be love. But despite my doubts, i reciprocated as to not hurt her feelings. I feel like we say it sometimes because we're supposed to, because maybe there's an accepted timeline in the relationship rulebook. And maybe we mean it, but not like we should. But I could tell that towards the end, i really started to mean it. I felt something that I have never felt before in my life, so I KNEW it had to be love. I wanted to see her... i wanted to be around her... i wanted to be with her. When i wasnt around her, I missed her. And when I was with her, things made sense. We disagreed on a lot of things, but when it came to loving each other, there was nothing disagreeable.
But back to the breakup... she was a personal assistant for the woman she was living with. This woman was going through a move, and Kristin was helping, but it was driving her CRAZY. She was under so much stress that her healing was paying the price. She came to what I'm sure was a difficult decision to abandon everything in New York City and move 300 miles north to her parents house. She broke this news to me monday. I told her I would come over the next day and we would talk. In those 24 hours, i came to a very difficult decision. There was no way our relationship would function long-distance. She was in an area with no cell service and internet that can only be accessed by going to the town's public library in the center of town. She was 5 hours away and I work 6 days a week, so we'd at most see each other 1-2 times a month, if even that. A relationship with emotional and mental minus physical is a friendship, and as I've told her for years, i never wanted to be her friend, I've always wanted something more. I needed to be near her. I know people make long distance relationships work all the time, and it seems like I took the easy way out, but I feel like I avoided delaying the inevitable and just making it harder down the line.
I unfortunately am dominated by a logical brain. I didnt want her to leave. I wanted to say that love would keep us together and love would see us through and whatever other cliche you can think of. The romantic in me wanted to run to the gate at the airport after having run through the pouring rain, but life doesnt work that way. She wanted me to say we'd make it work. She wanted me to beg her to stay. But I told her i wanted her to get better and the only way that would happen is if she went home. So i told her that we're done. She's leaving in two weeks. and we're done. but we had to make a clean break. If we continued to hang out, we would do what I feared... continuing maintaining half a relationship from 5 hours away.
I kept my distance from her this entire discussion. I was afraid if i came close, i wouldnt want to let go. And i was right. I wanted to leave. I wanted to say goodbye. I was in shock, so the emotions hadnt kicked in yet, but I wanted to get away. I went over to her as she stopped crying for the 4th time, and I hugged her tight. She began to cry again. I whispered in her ear "I love you" It was the first time I could bring myself to say it that night. I didnt know what our future would hold, but I wanted her to know that. You cant turn off love, and I wanted her to know that I still loved her.
She asked me to stay the night... one last night next to each other... one last hug... one last kiss. I couldnt leave her so coldly. But I didnt want my emotions to take over, even though I know she was hoping they would. But I stayed. I knew i could never look her in the eyes again if I didnt. After I decided, i laid in bed next to her. We eventually got closer, made out a bit, and then I decided to stop and go to sleep. So three hours later, our breakup had been finalized, however the sentence had yet to be carried out. She stayed close to me that night. I stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering if I had made the right decision... wondering what this meant for us... wondering if we would ever be the same again. I never came to a conclusion on any of those things.
Morning came. I woke earlier than usual. We messed around a little more, but slowly my emotions were kicking in. It was time to go to work. I'm bad at leaving. If I was good at it, i would have left the night before. Sure, she asked me to stay, but I never wanted to leave. Leaving would make it absolute. But I dragged through my morning routine at that apartment one last time... going to the other bathroom to drop a deuce, going into her one person bathroom shower stall to shower with Vanilla birthday cake body wash. getting dressed with the small change of clothes i would always carry in my overnight bag. but this time, my bag had a few additions. She had presents, or what I like to call parting gifts. She asked me not to look at them in front of her. so i didnt.
we hugged and kissed goodbye. we exchanged I love yous. She thanked me. I assumed it was for staying one more night, but maybe for the past 5 1/2 months. I told her I would see her when she gets back. She told me that I better change my number, because if I'm with someone when I get back, she's GOING to steal me back.
i walked down the long hall to the front door. I turned back to look at her one last time. She stood on her crutches looking back at me, backlit by the window. [Click] I'll never forget that image.
While the details are a bit fuzzy, as I had just arose from a deep sleep to my phone feverishly vibrating on my night stand. It was my girlfiend - who I had not spoken to in 2 days. She was in an emergency room, after just being hit by a bicycle. As that day continued, more and more details emerged. The final verdict - a depressed tibial plateau fracture. Essentially the top of her tibia where it meets the knee was shattered into a bunch of pieces and the bone was compressed pushing it far away from the joint. surgery was needed. So now what? The then girl I was just dating was injured. Where most guys might run the other way and not look back, i put on my helmet and gear and ran into the fire. I knew what I signed up for (or at least I thought I did).
The next few months would be a challenge, but I was up to it. Although we had talked about not labeling ourselves and just enjoying the moment, things change. Circumstances change. I asked her to be my official girlfriend to show her I wasnt going anywhere. She accepted. But this was no normal relationship. The days of us going out to restaurants all over the city, or taking walks, or doing any physical activity, were over. We were launched into a world of take out and one-sided travel. But I loved her... i love her... and it was something I was willing to do. It was not her choice, and I didnt blame her for it. I still dont.
Now here's where things get a bit tricky. I had recently helped her move from her 3rd floor williamsburg Brooklyn apartment to the Upper East Side apartment. Quite the upgrade, but with reason... she was going back to school. She had resigned from her job just a week ago. She had vacated her apartment to save money. And her former employer was gracious enough to let her move into a practically vacated apartment to be closer to school in exchange for the position as a personal assistant. Well, the accident put a major wrench in these plans. She decided to defer from school for a year. And while she agreed to still be a personal assistant, how much can you really do from the confinement of an apartment? So she was unemployed and injured living in someone elses apartment. Dont worry, it gets better.
She had surgery 2 short weeks later. Along with her dad, i escorted her the short trip around the corner from her Upper East Side residence to Lenox Hill Hospital. I hate hospitals... nothing good has ever come of me visiting people in a hospital. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her. After her successful surgery, I sat with her all night (even though the anesthesia prevents her from remembering). The next day after work, I went over to keep her company. She laid in bed, crying in my arms as teh meds wore off. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her.
Over the next few weeks she got better. At first, I would kneel at her bedside and help her do exercises. Soon, she would do them on her own. She could get around on crutches. I happen to have a wheelchair in my garage at home, so I lugged it from scotch plains NJ to manhattan one day. I wanted her to be able to get around. So then we had date nights again. I would wheel her around the upper east side to restaurants. Things were getting back to normal. I loved pushing her around. It made her happy and that made me happy. I was proud to have her in front of me... the hot looking girl in the chair. I invited her to a wedding of my friend - she danced. I would pick her up at her place and bring her to my place every so often - she liked the change of scenery, and frankly, so did I. After all, her place had more sun than a greenhouse. As fall set it, we went apple picking. Sure, she passed out in the orchard from dehydration (and didnt tell me until later to not get me upset) but she made an effort to be a normal girl, i can tell she did it not only for herself, but for me, because she loved me. I introduced her to my family. That's something i thought I would never do. But I wanted to show my family the girl I loved.
I know she loved me... i could feel it from her. She would always tell me she loved me, and I would say "I know, I can tell." She never understood how, but I could just feel it... in the way she looked at me... in the way she would touch me... in a kind of unspoken way that you only understand if youre the one being loved. I'm not sure if I ever gave her that feeling. The only thing we ever had in common was the fact that we had nothing in common, but that never mattered. When we were together, we just worked.
To be honest, she told me she loved me very early on, maybe too early. I knew I felt something for her, although at the time I wasnt sure if it was love. I mean, it had to be, I've known her for over 10 years, it had to be love. But despite my doubts, i reciprocated as to not hurt her feelings. I feel like we say it sometimes because we're supposed to, because maybe there's an accepted timeline in the relationship rulebook. And maybe we mean it, but not like we should. But I could tell that towards the end, i really started to mean it. I felt something that I have never felt before in my life, so I KNEW it had to be love. I wanted to see her... i wanted to be around her... i wanted to be with her. When i wasnt around her, I missed her. And when I was with her, things made sense. We disagreed on a lot of things, but when it came to loving each other, there was nothing disagreeable.
But back to the breakup... she was a personal assistant for the woman she was living with. This woman was going through a move, and Kristin was helping, but it was driving her CRAZY. She was under so much stress that her healing was paying the price. She came to what I'm sure was a difficult decision to abandon everything in New York City and move 300 miles north to her parents house. She broke this news to me monday. I told her I would come over the next day and we would talk. In those 24 hours, i came to a very difficult decision. There was no way our relationship would function long-distance. She was in an area with no cell service and internet that can only be accessed by going to the town's public library in the center of town. She was 5 hours away and I work 6 days a week, so we'd at most see each other 1-2 times a month, if even that. A relationship with emotional and mental minus physical is a friendship, and as I've told her for years, i never wanted to be her friend, I've always wanted something more. I needed to be near her. I know people make long distance relationships work all the time, and it seems like I took the easy way out, but I feel like I avoided delaying the inevitable and just making it harder down the line.
I unfortunately am dominated by a logical brain. I didnt want her to leave. I wanted to say that love would keep us together and love would see us through and whatever other cliche you can think of. The romantic in me wanted to run to the gate at the airport after having run through the pouring rain, but life doesnt work that way. She wanted me to say we'd make it work. She wanted me to beg her to stay. But I told her i wanted her to get better and the only way that would happen is if she went home. So i told her that we're done. She's leaving in two weeks. and we're done. but we had to make a clean break. If we continued to hang out, we would do what I feared... continuing maintaining half a relationship from 5 hours away.
I kept my distance from her this entire discussion. I was afraid if i came close, i wouldnt want to let go. And i was right. I wanted to leave. I wanted to say goodbye. I was in shock, so the emotions hadnt kicked in yet, but I wanted to get away. I went over to her as she stopped crying for the 4th time, and I hugged her tight. She began to cry again. I whispered in her ear "I love you" It was the first time I could bring myself to say it that night. I didnt know what our future would hold, but I wanted her to know that. You cant turn off love, and I wanted her to know that I still loved her.
She asked me to stay the night... one last night next to each other... one last hug... one last kiss. I couldnt leave her so coldly. But I didnt want my emotions to take over, even though I know she was hoping they would. But I stayed. I knew i could never look her in the eyes again if I didnt. After I decided, i laid in bed next to her. We eventually got closer, made out a bit, and then I decided to stop and go to sleep. So three hours later, our breakup had been finalized, however the sentence had yet to be carried out. She stayed close to me that night. I stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering if I had made the right decision... wondering what this meant for us... wondering if we would ever be the same again. I never came to a conclusion on any of those things.
Morning came. I woke earlier than usual. We messed around a little more, but slowly my emotions were kicking in. It was time to go to work. I'm bad at leaving. If I was good at it, i would have left the night before. Sure, she asked me to stay, but I never wanted to leave. Leaving would make it absolute. But I dragged through my morning routine at that apartment one last time... going to the other bathroom to drop a deuce, going into her one person bathroom shower stall to shower with Vanilla birthday cake body wash. getting dressed with the small change of clothes i would always carry in my overnight bag. but this time, my bag had a few additions. She had presents, or what I like to call parting gifts. She asked me not to look at them in front of her. so i didnt.
we hugged and kissed goodbye. we exchanged I love yous. She thanked me. I assumed it was for staying one more night, but maybe for the past 5 1/2 months. I told her I would see her when she gets back. She told me that I better change my number, because if I'm with someone when I get back, she's GOING to steal me back.
i walked down the long hall to the front door. I turned back to look at her one last time. She stood on her crutches looking back at me, backlit by the window. [Click] I'll never forget that image.
posted by Christian at 10:38 PM
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