The Broken Heart

No one likes the mundane details that happen after a happy ending.  That’s why they end it there.  It’s as if to say there’s no more story left once you’re happy. Let’s talk about the very opposite of a soul mate.  The one that broke my heart.

On a Sunday morning, I met her in a small white chapel at the top of the hill off of one of the spoke streets that led away from the city.  She sat herself right in front of me insuring I would be looking at her ass while singing hymns.  She was nothing if not manipulative.

We had lot’s of sex, she got pregnant and we got married…in that order, but the marriage part didn’t happen right away.  She broke up with me once she found out she was pregnant and for no reason.  I guess the only reason she needed is that she had borderline personality disorder.  A type you’re sure to meet in church.   It threw me for a fucking loop.  I was a train wreck.  She lost the baby.  She didn’t miscarry.  The fetus was far enough along that it died in the womb.  I couldn’t even be there for the D&C.  Several weeks later she wanted to reconcile, for no reason.  In the blindness of love, this made me happy.

Once we married, she did miscarry.  A lot.  I lost count after seven.  At least I believed her every time she told me.  As an aside, I did see her when she was pregnant the 1st time and can validate. We had one bad argument about 6 months after we were married right before Christmas.  It was over something stupid, like doing the dishes.  She went to her parents house.  She called me up the next day and said she wanted a divorce.  She never came back this time.  I lost my job 2 weeks later.

For 3 months I laid on a mattress, watched Sponge Bob (as someone who first experienced Sponge Bob as an adult, you have no soul if you don’t like Sponge Bob) and ate Ben and Jerry’s.  The heartbreak diet is killer effective.  I lost 20 pounds and had a new found appreciation for the devastation someone with mental illness can unleash on you.

Somewhere along the way I heard someone say that you don’t know how to love unless you’ve had your heart broken.  Fuck them.  Fuck them sideways with a baseball bat.  I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.  At the very worst, find a relationship where you both take each other for granted until you fall out of love over time.  It’s far better.