Continuing with posts from the original Breakup Project Blog.
Saturday 6th February
Day 2: Cleansing ModeHi,
(That's a long sigh with a hopeless and melodramatic drop of the head.) I am sitting in my bedsit amidst about two weeks worth of strewn clothes. There are half a dozen empty tea-cups around the bed area, and it's actually dangerous to be in semi-close proximity to my kitchen sink; God only knows what is growing in it.
This is the sorry scene of depression; no I'm not afraid to admit it, that I have found myself in cohabitation of lately, because it has been too much effort to open my wardrobe and find hangers, and the prospect of cleaning my kitchen is becoming more and more daunting by the day. I have found it much more comforting instead, to spend most of my time hidden away underneath my duvet, where I can't see any of it.
Don't worry though, today some sort of light has dawned upon me, and there is an angel or something up there; ordering me to pull myself together, snap out of it, and buy some very-lemony washing-up liquid, gloves and a face-mask to tackle that sink with! (She's very disapproving, and looks a bit like my mother!)
This morning over our cheap continental hotel breakfast of hard cold toast and cornflakes, I asked my boyfriend for the final time how he feels and what he wants to do about us. I was expecting something clear and positive, but he mumbled something about not being sure, and wanting to just see how things go. It wasn’t the constructive reply I was hoping for. So I took control of the situation. Yes
me - I took control! It's what you have to do in the end ladies. You get to the point where the choice simply isn’t yours anymore as your body and heart will start to repel him involuntarily because he just refuses to understand you
So I took a sip of my tea which still tasted sugarless despite me shamelessly and robotically emptying in four sachets, and I quietly stated that ‘seeing how things go’ wasn't quite enough for me. Nobody wants to see themselves morph into a neurotic psychopath, but here is the problem; now don’t think I am a lunatic, but every time I see his phone I want to snatch it up and lock myself in a loo, where I can sit on the toilet-seat and greedily sweep through his messages and numbers to see what discrepancies I can find! I didn't do it, what do you think I am? The urge was just lingering there, like a child's instinct to steal cookies from the cookie jar.
It was the early hours of the morning - probably 3am, and he was sleeping; but I wasn't, because I was plotting how I could get out of the bed without disturbing him, creep round to his side and take the iPhone hostage. I didn’t have the balls to see it through though.
I actually tried it a few months back; things just didn’t seem to be adding up then either. He was sleeping and his phone was right there, so I tip-toed over, swiped it up, and ran to lock myself in the loo. He must have had some kind of psychic connection with that phone because two seconds later he jolted from slumber and was pummelling the loo door with his fists like a madman. I was so disconcerted by it that I couldn’t seem to focus on the phone anyway, and after about ten minutes of cowering on the loo wishing I hadn’t been born, and listening to him try to persuade me that he wouldn’t blow his lid if I unlocked the door, I gave in and handed back his phone without having checked a single thing.
Right then, there in that hotel breakfast room, I just needed him to understand my neurosis, and say – “Look babe, if you want to raid through my phone go for it, whenever you feel like it, you have my permission if it makes you feel better.” And I needed him to say – “Okay babe, if this thing with my ex is bugging you so much, just take her number and give her a call; meet up, go for a coffee, get it out of your system, it's okay because I love you, and I want you to get over this phase and stop that pretty eye of yours from twitching.” But nope, instead, he's eyeing his phone like a hawk, keeping it in his pocket (which he never used to do because it's uncomfortable to sit down with it in his pocket) and even taking it into the toilet with him. Something just isn't right about that!
What I find so frustrating is that usually the tables are turned the other way and insecurity is
his middle name not mine. I expected some sort of empathy from him; he’s supposed to care about me. All I needed was some reassurance, some positivity. You can’t just keep seeing where things go and keep hoping for the best when things get this low; we’ve been working on this strategy for a year now and made no progress! You need to be able to connect and communicate; otherwise it’s just leading a person on and playing with their emotions. Just be straight-up, black and white, yes or no, to be or not be – no questions. But then, did I really expect him to be unselfish here? I knew he wasn’t going to take my needs into account in this particular situation, so I had to make the decision for myself; he wasn’t going to do it because he was just a coward. He wanted the best of both worlds.
It felt good though, to simply give up. I came to the conclusion that we're on different levels so what is the point? I ended the relationship over cold hard toast, and I was as cold and hard about it as I could be. His response mirrored mine. But at least now I don't have to stress anymore every time he takes his phone to the toilet with him, because I won't be there to see it. And I don't have to stress about our relationship not moving forward, because it's over. And there are so many other issues that won't exist so long as the relationship doesn't exist. It's a relief. Perhaps I can start being me again.
It is only day two though, so I expect this time tomorrow I may find myself feeling that familiar stab of panic in my chest as the realisation kicks in, and it'll be -
Oh my God, I'm going through a break-up - and
Oh my God, I don't like it! But we'll deal with those demons when they creep up on me.
In the meantime, I am in cleansing mode. The last time I cleansed I had a mini-meltdown; its funny the crazy things we do when consumed by irrational emotion. I remember it because I was in the midst of a terrible rage. I had had enough! After a blazing row, I got home and cried as many tears as I could; thinking that this will definitely be the last time. And then I proceeded to gather all of the little trinkets that I had connected any meaning to during our relationship and piled everything on the bed in order to pack it all up and send it back to the ... ahem, heartbreaking
Pollock!
It had started with a few sentimental items - a couple of soft toys and some charms from my bracelet, but it then extended to a Christmas tree complete with giant red balls and decorations. I realised with regret that I didn't have enough money to deliver it all back to him, as I barely had enough money to eat at the time. Plus I figured, the Christmas tree would come in handy as it was that time of year. I thought that if I was to keep the tree, then it kind of diminished the whole point, so I found myself lovingly putting the charms back on my bracelet, and the cherished soft toys back in their designated spots. By this time, I had caught a glance of myself in the mirror, and I looked hideous - all puffy and pathetic. So I made a conscious decision not to be upset anymore, and not to take it out on my belongings.
But this time round it is not about cutting him off and zoning him out of my life; it is simply about being realistic and focussing on me - lovely me. We should all love ourselves more I think Today, I will learn to love my living space. Bacteria - here I come...
NOTES:
It's interesting to see how I adapted certain facts in my original blog to hide certain information from my presumed online readership - so that though it was written as a personal journal and exploration of thoughts and feelings that I was actually having at the time; essentially it was always a fictional account - with information being carefully selected to "tell a story".
It's also interesting how I have managed to fictionalise certain facts whilst re-writing the original blog into a novel, to incorporate my real emotional experience into the fictional world and characters I am creating. The book I am writing is after all a story and not a factual account of events. Everything is mixed up, taken out of context, and approached from a dramatic story-telling perspective.
If you followed the original Breakup Project Blog previously, or are reading the original posts now, you will find quite a difference in how I tell the story in my novel. The novel has of course grown to fit the characters I have created. It is quite tricky to create fiction from factual events, scenarios and characters. Sometimes the lines of reality become very blurred and I almost forget what actually happened as the characters and scenarios become more and more real to me, and take on a mind of their own - but I guess that is the beauty of The Diary Girl Series, and what makes it original.
I think my method of keeping personal blogs to derive from reality my world, story and characters is quite unique; but in a way isn't this how every writer writes? Essentially writers write about what they know; personal experiences, people that they know, places they have been, and situations they have been a part of or heard about... and they mix it all up until they get a work of fiction!
