Thank you to all of you for your kind, funny, strong, supportive words. (Especially binaross for the list of breakup songs… I think I may actually have giggled when “Call Tyrone” came on the playlist).
I made it through one day at work. I cried in my office and claimed to have long conference calls to sit through most of the day with the door closed. There were still some pretty close calls, but luckily my Big Bad Boss is on vacation this week. She is evil and loves to come in and ask about the wedding planning to act kind. Yesterday, it just would have added to her core of pure evil and possibly sent me jumping out my third floor office window.
As soon as possible, I dove out the door onto the bus and pulled on the big sunglasses so no one could see my swollen eyes and ask what was wrong. It’s always nice of people to ask, but as close as I am teetering on the edge right now, it would just send me into pathetic hysterics. Hugs are worse. At this point, I’m likely to cling to huggers until their shirt is soaked and they have bruises. Also not attractive.
The ex future mother-in-law offered me a ride the rest of the way home from my second bus since it looked like a thunderstorm was coming. I kind of liked the idea of being miserable trudging home alone to my dark house in the rain, but I didn’t have the energy to be that melodramatic. And at the door, she offered me the perfect thing. Pie. Chocolate raspberry pie she had just bought fresh at the farmer’s market. With instructions to eat the whole thing the minute I had an appetite again. She really is a wonderful woman (and has known her share of jerks in her time).
I mentioned to her that I was thinking of taking an incomplete in my summer grad classes while I am a total disaster, but her advice was to finish the last two weeks and stay busy, that in two weeks I’d feel a lot better and regret wallowing in my misery. Probably sound advice, but day two after you find out your fiance’ is telling another woman he loves her seems like the perfect time to wallow in my misery.
I downloaded the woman power songs recommended by yesterday’s comments. I lit a candle and sat in the dark alone on the couch and cried. And cried. And cried until my face hurt. I put on my “birth control glasses” so my contacts didn’t melt into my eyeballs. I put on the big flannel pj’s and crawled under an afghan and cried and played bad country music (“the music of pain,” according my friend J and an old episode of “Buffy”).
BC called. Because he is the best gay best friend a gal could ask for, he offered to cancel our theatre tickets for Tuesday, bring fried and chocolate and bourbon, and sit. If I could eat anything, I would be grateful, but the idea of swallowing feels revolting right now. He knows me and the fiance’ well, heard every sordid detail, and promised that until I can get angry, he’ll be angry enough for both of us. He waited an hour before even mentioning the tough time he is having with his boyfriend. Which of course made me cry. Because I was so focused on me that I hadn’t even asked how he was. And he laughed, because he’s that kind of friend. And because he hadn’t exactly expected me to worry about their latest fight when I had just called off my wedding. Thank God for BC.
Then it was back to the crying. By 10:30, I had worn myself out, so I went to bed. The (ex) fiance’ made it home around 11 from work and came upstairs to see me and let me know he was home. Which of course woke me up and started the crying all over again. He was smart enough to go downstairs and leave me in peace, so I cried myself out again by 11:30 and went to sleep.
Text messages to me from the ex yesterday:
“think about it for one week please.” (reply: you broke my heart)
“it’s not like that” (no response)
“please just think about it i want to spend the rest of my life with you.” (i wish you thought of that earlier)
“i know it was wrong” (no response)
“i don’t want to live without you in my life” (no response)
“at least talk to me please” (no response)
“you home?” (not yet)
“i get off early today yahoo 🙂 ” (no response, but really? he has “yahoo” and a smiley left in him? bastard)
“how was work i know you don’t like mondays” (i cried in my office all day)
“we can work this out i love you” (no response)
“i just want to come home” (no response)
“i just want to hang out on the couch and watch tv” (i’ll be upstairs so i’m not in your way)
God, I hate text messages. I called off work today sick because I feel like I’m dying. And me, the laptop, a box of kleenex, and 97 pillows have nested onto the bed for the long haul.
It’s the (ex) fiance’s birthday today. Happy Birthday.