I am sitting on my ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s couch. His girlfriend and I became friends when we were both dating W and N. She is still dating N and I am 2.5 months into my break up with W. I have not seen him since the day I ended it. It seems like yesterday. It seems like a lifetime ago. She asked me to come over and babysit tonight and I was glad to do it. When I arrived, N opened the door and I felt like I had been stabbed. Every time I see him, I think of W. I think of all the drinks, dinners, nights we spent together with these two. I remember the trips, parties and plans we shared. It is all gone, as if it never even happened.
N hugs me awkwardly and we sit down to eat dinner before they go out for the night – pizza and salad. What an oxymoron. We talk and I joke and avoid eye contact with N. He eventually leaves my girlfriend and I sitting alone to catch up. I tell her that I still cry every day over W.
“That is what happens when you really love someone,” she tells me. “Eventually you will let go. It will diminish in time.”
But it has not. I have diminished. I have got thinner, smaller and broken into a million little pieces. Losing W has diminished me. ED has diminished me. I have not let go of anything except my sanity. I certainly have not let go of W. I carry him with me, in my broken heart. I think of him, love him, remember him and wish him happiness every time I whisper his name. He is always in my thoughts. This man who let me go so, so easily, stays with me even though I chose not to stay with him.
My girlfriend and N leave for the night and I put her child to bed. I read her princess stories and think what a disservice I am doing this child, reading her fairy tales about white knights on horseback, exacerbating the myth that a man will love her forever and she will live happily ever after.
She falls asleep and I go and throw up dinner. I look in the mirror, mascara and vomit smeared across my face. I am purging in my ex-boyfriend’s best friend’s toilet. It seems fitting.