Dawn

                I’ve been dumped, for the first time.  It doesn’t feel good.  You have to reconcile yourself with the fact that you won’t get to hold that beautiful being anymore.  If you can’t keep your personal relationship with them on good terms, you may not even be able to talk to them.  It’s an awful feeling.

                She told me I wasn’t doing anything wrong.  I didn’t particularly think I was-at least I hoped so.  The problem was that a relationship can be a stressful thing.  And she just couldn’t deal with that stress anymore.  I’ll get back to that later.  But another important factor she shared with me was the exact one I had on my mind. 

                To tell the story, one night I was hanging out at her house-feeling slightly ignored, to say the least.  I could tell that I wasn’t the number one thing on her mind that night, and that hurt me a bit.  There didn’t seem to be anything in particular to distract her, but I didn’t ask to find out.  So I sought to make myself more important.  I hid behind the couch, hoping she’d coming looking for me.  She didn’t.  She apparently knew I was back there the whole time, and didn’t bother to tell me so.  That hurt too.  But I sought to repair the mood.  So I stretched out on the couch with a blanket, hoping she’d sit down and at least cuddle a little.  But she stood there, sipping her Pepsi.  That hurt a little more.  Then her mom arrived-not that I hate the woman, she’s always been nice to me, but she was kind of in the way of my goals.  And she informed Dawn that they were going to head over to her (Dawn) dad’s house for a movie.  But I volunteered that I had to be home by 11-so I couldn’t come.  And while I was incredibly disappointed at being deprived of two hours with this girl, she didn’t flinch.  It made me feel like I didn’t matter.  So I walked out.  Straight to the car, not looking back.  Got in the car and put in one of my CDs-a customized mix, essentially for when I’m angry or determined or, you know, something intense like that.  She came up to say goodbye.  I figured her mom had sent her to do so, so I shrugged her off, and then just about crashed the car twice on the way home. 

                When I arrived at home, I whipped out my phone and began to text her, my emotions exaggerated by the music and by the fact that she was not present-none of her beauty or the emotion hidden in her eyes to mellow my anger.  And I committed the ultimate sin-exaggerating my belief that she wasn’t showing her full feelings in favor of accusing her of having no emotions.  As I was told the day we broke up two weeks later, she cried-for three hours.

                I woke up in the morning, apologizing over myself, trying to get her to forgive me.  I’d just let anger get the best of me, and I didn’t really mean it.  I really didn’t, too. 

                After what seemed like making up, I got comfortable again.  And I even moved towards things that could ensure the continuation of our relationship.  But sometimes it just seemed like something was off, and then she dropped the bomb.

                When she did, she compared herself waiting for a text to a dog waiting for its next beating.  I had promised her it wouldn’t come; I promised that I’d never do that again.  I didn’t understand how she held on to that, and not to the many times I told her how much I loved her and how amazing she was.

                But I was at wrestling practice last night, and kicking Markus’ ass.  It got to the point where he was so frustrated that every time I started on bottom, he’d do something painful; stick his knee in my back, land particularly hard (he weights thirty pounds more than me), etc.  I braced myself for that, even after he had stopped doing it.  And there came my epiphany.  I understood how Dawn felt, finally, and it would have to be worse than I was.  Physical pain I could deal with-I could even get my revenge by kicking his ass again.  But emotional pain messes with your head, and your heart.  And from your own boyfriend-that must be absolutely awful.  And I became so sorry that I ever made her feel that way.  For her to deal with me another two weeks after that became unbelievable-it required some real heart.

 I understood Dawn better than I ever had at that point, and although we’ve broken up, I still want to be there for her.  As much as she doesn’t want to believe it, she needs people to be there for her.  While she thinks they should all just give up on her, I refuse.  Giving up would be the opposite of what would help.  She needs someone who believes in her-someone to assure her that she’ll be okay, in the end.  She’ll find another guy, one who won’t hurt her, and she’ll live life.  Life sucks sometimes, yes.  It can really kick your ass.  But it doesn’t matter whether we like it or not, we still have to deal with it.  We have to understand that this is how life is, and we still have to live.  I may not like that we’ve broken up-I’d still probably take her back any day-but I have to deal with it.  That’s the way the world is now, and I have to live with it, whether I like it or not.  I think I’m doing pretty well with that.

I want the best for her.  I still want to be there for her, I still want to talk and laugh and smile with her.  I just won’t get to see her nearly as often, or hold her close as I loved to do.  I want to be friends, and I hope she’ll accept that.  I hope that this breakup won’t make her get down on herself-there was nothing wrong with her, as much as she thinks so.  I hope she can find a reason to believe in herself as I did.  And I hope she can move on, not dwelling on failures, but focusing on what she can do moving forward.