Heartbreakers Unite

February. The month of love. So suitable for our very first post. 

Dear Boy,

First, a word of appreciation to you. Thank you for agreeing (or being peer pressured enough) to write this blog with me. I am excited about our upcoming adventures here and am grateful that you are willing to take your questions, thoughts and advice public. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’ll get many more readers interested in what you’re saying than I will. Dumped boys don’t tend to go looking online for solace. Or do they? Anyway, here goes…

Whoever said that breakups were any easier for the dumper than for the dumpee? It’s just plain unfair.

For one thing, the dumpee is never completely without fault. It takes two, baby, and I’m not sure most folks recognize just how hard it is to end a serious relationship. How many people actually go through life because they’re more scared of being single than of spending the rest of their lives with significant others who no longer make them happy? I mean, I almost lived the latter and now I can think of nothing scarier than this eternal sense of unfulfillment.

Here’s how it feels to be a female dumper (or, in an effort to generalize a bit less, a female dumper like me):

Lonely. Even for those who see me as the “courageous” girl that was strong enough to end things before they got worse, there is this false belief – to which I’m sure I contribute – that I’m doing okay. I’m not. I still want my friends and my family to call and check on me. I still need for people to listen when I’m feeling down. I also feel lonely because so many women are dumpees and don’t understand how or why I did the dumping.

Guilty. I’m now known as a heartbreaker, and may I remind you that the dictionary picture embodying this term is a hunky, masculine guy. Instead, my maternal instincts are more heightened than ever and I feel like it’s my job to make him feel better about how I’ve “wronged” him. So, I apologize even when you know it’s not necessary and I am his shoulder to cry on, even though there could be no worse person for him to share these feelings with than me.

Angry. Because I feel guilty, I get angry that he doesn’t. He’s allowed to call. He’s allowed to text that he misses me and invite me out without feeling bad about it. This seems unfair because I’m being considerate of his feelings by restraining myself from responding emotionally even though I miss him too. And that’s my job because I’m the dumper. But isn’t self-control somewhere inside of all of us?

So, here’s my question for you: what does it feel like being the male dumper? Do you share any or all of these sentiments?

Your thoughts are much appreciated,

Girl

My wallet can’t help but be partially thankful for being single this month where love is usually converted into dollar signs.

Dear Girl,

           

            Let me start off by THANKING YOU for starting this blog.  Though part of me wonders if it’s so you don’t get so many lengthy text and late night phone calls from me.  To answer your question, I think a good number of boys/men do go online looking for solace after a break up.  I know I googled “How to deal with a break up,” literally hours after I pulled the trigger.  There weren’t, however, many guy responses.  Not surprising as most of my gender sees expression as weakness…which is why we turn to the internet as a safe place to find answers we are too afraid to ask our friends.

            There is nothing easy about being the dumper, no matter what your gender, if you have a heart.  Granted there are exceptions for abusive relationships, but for the most part if you are breaking up with someone that you cared enough for to label them as your ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ and let the world know they are the ones you chose…then letting them go and taking away that title and sense of belonging is going to kill you.

            I know most guys are seen as assholes and dicks, which we are quickly labeled as, when we break up with someone, but that’s not fair.  I didn’t break up with my ex because I wanted to sleep with someone else, or because she gained weight, or because I was ‘bored.’  I broke up because I was genuinely unhappy and because I did everything I could to save our relationship, even to my own detriment, and she just sat back and watched me drown oblivious to all of it.

Here’s how I felt/feel (comes in waves still…like Vietnam flashbacks, but sexier) being the male dumper…

I AM SATAN: I am the worst human being to ever live.  I have ruined her life, and deserve nothing but pain and torture for all eternity for doing so.

I AM A LIAR: All the times I told her how much I loved her, how I’d never leave her, how I wanted to marry her…it’s all bullshit.  I said those things and I believed them…then towards the end I said them out of habit…I told her I’d always be there, and then I ripped that away…taking me back to being Satan.

I AM ALONE: It’s been 5 months since we broke up and I haven’t been with anyone else.  I can’t stop thinking about her and talking about her.  I will rant about our relationship to anyone who will listen trying to get someone to confirm to me that I did the right thing…something I can hold onto while I sleep alone in this cold noisy city.

I AM PATHETIC: I check my phone and email all the time looking for a text from her or some email.  Not even sure what I’d really want it to say…somedays I’d love to hear that she never wants to see me again.  Somedays I want to hear about how much she misses me…most days I don’t get anything but I still wake up in the middle of the night and look at my phone, check my facebook (I just stopped checking her facebook…that was a struggle) etc hoping for…something….

I AM ANGRY: I’m so mad at her…and I can’t even tell her.  I’m so mad at her for making me feel so guilty and constantly apologizing for my decision to end it…it DOES take TWO to end a relationship…at least a meaningful one it does.  I’m so sick of saying ‘I’m sorry,’ and all this self deprecation I do for her talking about how stupid I was and how awful I am and how great she is…when if she was that great I wouldn’t have broken up and been so damned miserable…but I bite my tongue cause I’ve got a gag in my mouth called GUILT.

I AM DOUBTFUL: In my heart of hearts I know I did the right thing…but it doesn’t mean that I don’t question my decision everyday with a small sliver inside wanting things to just go back to how they were. 

So, Girl, here is my question for you.  What should one do to help them survive that first month of the break up?

Yours truly,

BOY