Love Is Sinkable.

Well, I have lost the fifteen pounds I planned on losing since the beginning of the year. After Adam and I broke up, I decided that instead of going into a depression induced coma, I would instead channel that energy into something positive and productive. I went to the gym everyday for nearly a month straight, sometimes twice a day. I was running at least eight miles a day, and when I was feeling especially anxious/motivated, I would run nearly fifteen. Between the exercise and the mostly raw fruit and vegetable diet, I dropped nine pounds in a little over three weeks.

Adam went to Europe shortly after we broke up, and I maintained an upward momentum for the first three or four weeks of his being on vacation (minus a few drunk voice and text messages). However; I realized that all the things I'd been doing to distract myself from admitting that out already weakening relationship was finally being laid to rest, were doing just that: distracting me from admitting the reality of the situation. Our three years together was coming to an end. At that realization, I nearly lost control at the onslaught of emotion that engulfed me. That is when I began what I like to call the "sleep induced diet." Basically, what it consists of is taking some sort of pill(s) to put you to sleep so that you don't have to deal with what's causing the pain around you. If you do that when you get off work, you miss dinner. If you do that when you have an entire day off, you miss all three meals of the day! Missing consistent meals for a week equals six pounds!

I dialed Adam's phone everyday he was gone on vacation just to hear his voice on his voicemail message. It was comforting to me. The whole time I was praying that he'd see something in Italy that took his breath away and think to himself, "I wish Chad were here to see this." or be staying in a seedy hostel in Germany and say, "I would feel safer if Chad were here with me." I called every single day, and when I called and it finally did ring, I almost couldn't contain myself. I wanted nothing more than to have him pick up and say, "Chad! I missed you! I'm sorry! I love you! Let's make this work!" He didn't answer. I was once again left with his voicemail, and a beep. But this time, I knew that there was not two thousand miles blocking our communication, but rather, somebody on the other end who simply didn't want to answer.

It's hard to understand how I could love somebody so much and how there were no warm feelings reciprocated. It's also hard to feel like I invested so much into somebody's life, and to have them cut me out of it so quickly, makes me feel lost. I know his favorite foods, his favorite color. I know his morning routine. I know where every mole is located on his body. I know what shows he watches in the afternoon, and that he falls asleep to Law & Order SVU at night. I know the percentage of cocoa he likes in his dark chocolate. I know which of his jeans to air dry. I know what size shoe he wears. I know that he hates bad customer service and he hates to be hot. Now, I'm just supposed to forget it all.

Perhaps the hardest thing about this whole breakup experience, is the fact that our perceptions on how our relationship was are so differing. He seems to have forgotten all the hundreds of ways that I tried to show my love towards him, make him feel like he was special, and demonstrate my devotion to making our relationship work. He doesn't remember our traditions, our laughter, our intimate moments or our conversations. He doesn't remember my willingness to ease his burdens or help him accomplish something he needed doing. He only remembers unhappiness. Towards the end of our relationship, I was not happy, but it was not because I didn't love him. It was because I was the only one trying anymore. He left emotionally many, many months earlier.

I can't help but miss him though. Everything around me reminds me of him. I am sad for the love I lost and for what we potentially could've found in each other. I will not, however; remain indolent any longer.

I suppose some things aren't meant to be reclaimed. After all, the Titanic still lays on the bottom of the ocean. And that is how my relationship with Adam will be remembered: like that seemingly unsinkable ship, which wasn't strong enough to withstand what was lurking in the depths of the bitter cold.