It’s 2:34 A M. Here you go again. Why do you care? Why do you care so much?

Why do you hurt for a man who doesn’t care about your feelings?

You’re losing sleep, not him. It’s got to stop. You’ve got to stop caring. You’re making yourself sick. It would be better if you returned to a day when he did not matter. Back to when he couldn’t hurt you. 

Make yourself numb. Numb, so you don’t have to feel the pain anymore. No more tears. Dry your eyes. Only babies cry. You’re no baby. You used to be his baby but, not anymore. 

You should have known from the start he’d break your heart—such a cliché. It’s true, though. You left your heart out there on the table. What did you expect? You should know by now there’s no such thing as forever. At least not for you. There never is. Either you end it, or they do, but it never lasts. There’s always a train wreck at the end of each relationship. You can remain friends, but the broken heart still has to mend. 

You sit here now and try to think of exactly when things started to unravel and then cry again. Was it when he had to do all that work on your house? Were you too demanding? Too much like a housewife? Was it the year before? He seemed happy at Christmas. Was it not enough sex? You’re in menopause, and your desire had waned. Perhaps he started to feel unattractive. Undesirable. A million other reasons go through your head. Too much political talk? Too much insomnia? Your dog Lillian? Tired of cooking. Tired of doing nothing. Bored with you. All of the above. Covid took its toll on your relationship for sure.

The bottom line? You set him free, and he ran faster than a Jack rabbit. He couldn’t wait to get out. Did he have someone waiting? Were you that stifling? Now he barely calls, and your dad just died and now’s when you need him the most. It’s killing you. 

Losing dad. Losing him. Both. At the same time. Your heart is so heavy. It hurts so bad. You can barely sleep. You walk the floor. You write. You watch tv.  You watch TikTic videos. You troll the Internet. You do anything to try not to think of him. To try not to think of your dad. 

Your poor dad.  He only lasted for two weeks after your move then he died. It was like he gave up. You feel guilty. You wish you could’ve been there. He had wanted to come and regain his strength then he was dead. Just like that. From a will to live to dead in less than a week. 

Now you grieve your dad and your lost love. One lost just after the other. You lost your dad the 10th and set him free the 12th. But you didn’t really expect him to run. Did you? No. You didn’t. You thought he would assuage your fears. You thought wrong. 

You can't keep torturing yourself. It's the wrong relationship anyway. He is hell bent on killing himself. He won't even stop working out or take time off work long enough to recover from Covid. He doesn't care about his health. Why should you? He is going to drive himself to another heart attack. You can’t leave yourself vulnerable. If he dies, it will kill you. Right now, your heart is raw. You must fix that. You must throw yourself into something. Your writing. A new job. Getting the house fixed up. So much to do. 

Now the anxiety sets in. If you move in it becomes reality. You are really here. No turning back. You've left him behind. You're starting over at almost sixty-three. Past middle age. A crone. Destined most likely to end up alone. With your dog. A maiden aunt. Oh well. The dream of growing old with someone was just that, a dream. Something that happens to other people not you. You should know by now there is no happy ending for you.  Only tears. 

Excuses

Well, now you know why he ran. He says he’s been falling out of love for the last year and just hasn’t said anything because he hasn’t wanted to add to your stress. That he’s felt neglected. That all your attention has been on your dad, Lillian and debt. 

Whatever, eye-roll. This he’s been keeping a secret. Jerk. Coward. He waited until he could drop you off like baggage then he still wasn’t going to tell you. You had to tell him? Now he drops in the fact that he too may be facing financial crisis. Well, he wouldn’t be if you were pooling your resources but, your dog is too big according to him so here you struggle in Oregon, and he struggles in California. 

Real smart. And you never would have been neglecting him if you hadn’t been busy putting your house on the market. You wouldn’t have been putting your house on the market if they had been pooling their resources, but what the fuck. You’re a bitch. Not enough ego stroking and sex. That’s what it really boiled down to in the end. He told you in the beginning that he didn’t love you the way that you loved him. You should have listened. 

Anyone who really cared about you wouldn’t have left you two days after your dad died. Or at least would have called to check up on you not just completely ignored you while you were grieving. Two hits. The loss of him and your dad. Even just talking to him hurts so much. Your heart and chest ache. Your stomach is sick, you can’t sleep, you can’t stop crying. You just can’t believe he’s fallen out of love with you. 

He sure put on a good show. All the Lubdelub DeLub’s, all the I love you mores and morer’s. Talk about pulling the rug out from underneath someone. Now after eight years together you’re supposed to find a new man.  You don’t even know where to go to look. Worse, you’re not interested. 

By the time your heart mends you will probably be 65. Him? He’s already moved on, you know. That's why the quick break up. He met someone. He didn't fall out of love he fell into lust. He couldn't just have an affair. He had to break up an eight-year relationship. 

You hope he’s miserable. He’s a dirty rat bastard. You had a whole life planned together. You had talked about Montana in the Summer and California in the Winter. He knew you didn't have to move. This was just what you had to do until you could afford to be together. Lillian wasn't going to live forever. You had bills to pay though. This house was a steal. And it fit your short-term dreams. If you had to move it might as well be somewhere you liked. 

Now you’re stuck here unless you meet someone who wants to move somewhere else. Your house won't sell for enough for you to buy a new one somewhere else. 

Epilogue 

Your tears have dried. It’s been more than a year since your breakup. You’ve moved on and even met another man. He’s so different from him. Lighthearted and free thinking. You’re happier. Not that you are looking for a relationship, but you have fun together. Sure, you still have stress. I guess you’re destined to. It seems no matter how hard you try you always end up with financial problems. The good news is that you have finally found a part time job. Your brother is also now your roommate and is paying rent. 

Your friendship with your new guy, is fun. He lives in Eugene. It’s ninety miles from here, but he doesn’t seem to mind the drive to come see you. You’ve been to the coast with him. The first vacation you’ve have had in four years.  Unlike your last guy, he wants to do things with you. He’s not so wrapped in working out six times a week that he has no time for you. You don’t just watch tv and eat and the sex is great! Maybe it wasn’t the menopause after all. 

You’re hopeful again about the future.  A year ago, you couldn't imagine a life without him, now you go weeks without even thinking about him. The new guy has made you realize how even though he was a generous person with his family he was a selfish person with his time spent alone with you. Yes, he helped you fix up your house so you could get it on the market. For that, you are eternally grateful but, when it came to your relationship, you took a backseat to everything and everyone in his life. In eight years, you can count on both hands the number of times you actually did things together that weren't family functions. Two of them were trips you paid for to Vegas for his birthday. How pathetic is that? No wonder your love died. What did the two of you do to make it grow? You see now that you let yourself become a prisoner. A slave to love. Spending weeks waiting for the weekend so you could have sex and watch tv. You hate to diminish your relationship but, that's what it boiled down to. He was living his life, and you were waiting to start yours with him after his mom died and you could move in together. How sad is that? Existing during the week on phone calls. Living for the brief interludes on the weekends. 

All that’s behind you now. You’re free. Free to live and enjoy life. No more waiting for your life to start. You’re living it now. The future is looking brighter.