Loss and Relationships

A few weeks ago I ran into an old boyfriend on my way home from work. We had broken up 13 months earlier after a close friendship followed by a short, volatile relationship. The break-up was messy and hurtful due to his inability to communicate and my inability to let go. Scarring words were exchanged through the whole ordeal, cutting deep to the core. The break-up changed who I was as a person, and I spent months wondering if I would ever recover from it.

Yet I did recover. And so did he. And when we ran into each other we were able to carry on a genial conversation. No false promises were made to meet up for coffee sometime, no phone numbers were exchanged. We stayed true to ourselves, and I knew that I had finally gotten over my anger and shame. After everything that happened, I can think of him as a decent person, and see him for who he is: someone with a good heart and good intentions, but nevertheless human. I left the encounter with a smile on my face.

Time really does heal a broken heart, I know that well. 13 months later, I'm again dealing with the aftermaths of a failed relationship. And as today we are going through the obligatory ritual of returning paraphernalia, I've started thinking about what it is that is so hard for me to let go of in relationships.

This break-up was different. Incompatibility was the biggest issue. We were two people that had fun together, but were headed in two different directions. And as this was apparent to me, along with the knowledge that hearts heal, I was able to quickly mourn the loss of the relationship itself and move on. What I find hard to let go of, however, is the loss of all the investment and emotion I poured into the relationship. As Carrie from Sex and the City asks in one episode, at the end of a relationship, where does the love go?

When you're in a relationship, that person becomes one of the most important people in your life. You think about him constantly, can't wait to share with him about your day, and he's the first to come to mind when you want to share a funny story or a profound idea. You invest your time in that person, spending it with him, calling him, emailing him. Yet when a relationship ends, poof, that person disappears. Where does all that emotional investment go? How can one person go from being so important to you to being nonexistent in your immediate life?

Unlike the law of conservation of mass, emotional investment is created when a relationship is built, and it becomes a memory when the relationship ends. And sometimes after recovery from a relationship, the memories become so fuzzy that they fade from your life completely. It's tough to accept this, that you've given a piece of your heart and have nothing to show for it.

There are lessons to be learned at the end of every relationship, but with each relationship I'm beginning to question whether the lesson was worth the experience. I'm still an optimist when it comes to relationships, but I'm learning to be more careful. After all, the heart does heal, but the emotional investment you will never get back.