Do we ever get used to heartbreak?
Do we ever get to a point where the experience of betrayal or abandonment becomes second nature so that you’re almost completely numb to the hurt when it happens?
I’m asking these questions because a part of me is hoping that I get to the point where heartbreak doesn’t phase me anymore. The point where I can end a relationship and still go about my life the next day like nothing has happened. The point where I would know how to get over someone so quick that I don’t have to wish to hear their voice and feel their touch on those lonely evenings months after the breakup.
I mean after my first heartbreak I thought I had seen it all.
He was my first actual boyfriend. I was 16 and in love. I have no idea what attracted me to him. He was not the perfect guy and he had a really bad reputation with girls. I guess I liked the whole ‘bad boy’ vibe, very stereotypical.
Things were fine at first, as they always are, but a few months into it I found out he was cheating. Of course, being the naïve young girl I was, I forgave him and carried on. He continued to cheat until I finally decided to end it two years in. It was a rollercoaster of emotions. It was intense. One moment I would hate him so much but the next I would be so in love. I knew it was toxic but I didn’t want to let go, until I did.
I was heartbroken, badly. I would lay in the dark, drinking wine and listening to sad music.
Why do we listen to sad music when we’re sad? Why do we do that to ourselves? Is it because we feel some weird sense of comfort in knowing that the singer feels what we’re feeling, that we’re not alone? Or are we just masochistic beings that like to feel worse than we already do? I think it’s a bit of both.
It took me months to get over him.
I thought that this experience gave me some thick skin. I was wrong. The next heartbreak hit just as badly. It was a beautiful few months until he ghosted me. I was so confused because I did not know the reason for this behaviour. I think that made it hurt even more. I started to question myself and wonder whether I had done something to push him away.
The confusion and sadness consumed me for months.
I clearly did not learn my lesson because I was so quick to fall in love again after that. He seemed like the perfect guy. I had gotten over my teenage ‘bad boy’ fantasy. He checked all the boxes and I kept wondering where he had been all my life. He was caring; he listened; he was kind; he was Christian.
The few months that we spent together felt like bliss. I had never been so at peace with a man.
One day, while I was basking in this newfound bliss, he yanked me out of it with a force I had never expected. He gave excuses as to why we could not be together — distance, uncertainty. I could not have been more hurt. I was convinced that I had found the one, only to be disappointed all over again.
My previous heartbreaks had not prepared me for this. It’s like I’m navigating how to get over someone for the first time again. This has been my worst one yet because it’s taking me longer to move on. It’s so ironic how I’ve gotten worse with experience.
I don’t know if I’ll ever know how to deal with heartbreak. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this feeling. The hurt feels new with every experience and getting over each person is a different journey.
A part of me wishes I would eventually become numb to this kind of pain. But another part of me hopes that I don’t.
Being able to feel it makes me know that I am human, and pain is part of life. It helps me to know that what I felt for them was real. Being numb would mean being detached from reality; I don’t think I want that.
I’ll continue to press on, falling in love unapologetically, and if I get hurt again, so be it.
