The Post Breakup Rage Stage

I’m angry. No, correction, I’m FUCKING angry. So angry, in fact, that I have these dream fantasies about screaming in my ex’s face about how selfish he is. I want to get revenge in some way. I want to say something that will really hurt his feelings so that he will experience the pain and anguish that I had been feeling.

Notice that I say “had” been feeling. Apparently once you move out of the stage of crying every night and randomly throughout the day, feeling numb, eating your feelings, and watching too many reruns of Sex and the City, you move into the I FUCKING HATE YOU stage. I guess anger is better than sadness, but anger makes you want to DO something whereas sadness makes you not want to do ANYTHING. I want to punch him in the face, fuck one of his friends, or post some really provocative shit on social media.

And speaking of social media, the thing I’ve latched onto lately as making me the MOST angry is that he seems to be fine and going on with his life according to his Instagram photos. He’s all over New York smiling and making jokes like he didn’t just lose the love of his life. Asshole.

And then because I’m angry about that, I start feeling angry about all the things he didn’t do and all the ways he disappointed me in the relationship. Which is good I guess, but those feelings have no where to go. All it does it ruin my mood and put a bad vibe out into the universe.

I was the one who orchestrated the breakup, I know. But that doesn’t mean that I wanted it. Part of me feels like he wanted out and so he let the relationship get to such a bad place that it forced ME to end it. I’ve analyzed every possibility in the book and yet thinking about it and trying to rationalize any of it only makes me feel worse. But the least he could do is fade from existence for a while until this has all blown over.

Stop thinking about him. Focus on yourself. Move forward. You deserve better.

I have to repeat those statements to myself all throughout the day. Some days are fine and I can make it out alive with only fleeting thoughts of what was or what could have been. But other days I feel like I’m just floating through life without any direction or purpose anymore. Everything feels weird and not quite right.

And the weirdest thing is, about a week after it happened I felt mostly okay! I felt like I was being released from the shackles of my own pain and suffering from within the relationship. I was free from the disappointment and crushed expectations. But now what’s left is the empty hole where his presence used to be. Even though I didn’t have his presence as much as I wanted it or in the way that I wanted it, I still had it.

So it comes to a point where I either have to accept that it’s really over for good and treat it like a death, or hold onto the idea that we will get back together eventually. Those are really the only two options. The latter is a very dangerous path to go down and will keep me stuck and hanging on instead of moving forward. So death is it, I guess. I mean how do you reconcile going from talking (or at least texting) with someone everyday to absolutely nothing?

The only other option is to use the pent up energy for someone new. But the idea of being with someone new is way too scary for me. Plus it only prolongs the mourning and isn’t really fair to the other person. I’m not going to be able to fuck my ex out of my mind and heart.

Part of me feels like he owes me something. He owes me an apology for not giving enough of himself. Or he owes me some fucking tears because I sure gave him a lot of those! I don’t need closure or anything, I guess I just wanted more of a reaction out of him. All I have is silence. One of the biggest problems I had with him is I felt like he didn’t care enough. About anything. He’s showing me that I was right. Whether that is deliberate or not.

As we get older, each new failed relationship just piles on the baggage and the cynicism. It’s hard to believe that I have to go back into the horrible dating world. Or get used to someone else’s quirks and habits. Ease myself into showing someone new my face with no makeup on. Go back into the cycle of: does he like me? will he call? what does this text mean? It’s exhausting to even think about.

I know, I know. Obviously I’m just not ready to move on yet. I just need to find a new outlet to manage this anger and come to terms with the finality of the breakup. Because if not, I run the risk of becoming that girl who thinks there are no good men in LA or that they’re all afraid of commitment. I don’t want to become an angry, bitter person. I’ve been that person before and she was not fun to be around.

He did the best he could. I can’t be mad at him for only going as far as he was capable of. But I might have to block him on Instagram so I don’t have to see him thriving without me.

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