Handling Getting Dumped

I suppose I should write about what inspired me to start this blog.

I haven't always been single.  In fact, I was "in a relationship" - facebook official and all that jazz - right up until I was unceremoniously dumped a little over two-weeks ago.  And a few years before that, I was in a long-term (seven years to be exact) relationship in which I, ultimately, was the dumper.  The former relationship, the heartbreak that ensued, and the blog reading that I did subsequently inspired me to start this blog.  The story behind both these relationships (one of them long, loving, healthy, and so far, the best I've ever had, and the other brutish and short) will be the subject of other blog posts.  But my personal observation on how to handle getting dumped (both from the perspective of the dumper and dumpee) is the subject of this specific blog post.

This is not a blog post about the 10 steps to get over your ex or some such nonsense.  Unlike those lying stupid romantic comedies in which relationships end on a whim and without tears, there is almost always an emotional casualty when relationships end.  Heartbreak is the price we pay for love.  And, the extent of our pain is correlated but not necessarily causally related with time.  Meaning that even though I was only with my latest ex (lets call her Hannah) for about 3 months, the pain was still devastating.  In fact, it may have been worse because I was firmly ensconced in the "happy world of possibility" stage of the relationship.

There's an important distinction between getting dumped and simply breaking up.  Often times, relationships breakup in a long and drawn out manner.  Think of it like a car gradually running out of gas.  Couples usually slowly fall out of love, stop having sex, start fighting more, and start the torturous process of breaking up and getting back together, until finally they decide they've had enough.  A dumping happens suddenly, with one party totally not expecting it.  So, conversely, as opposed to the relationship gradually grinding to a halt, it's more like a violent and disastrous car crash.  The emotional trauma of a breakup is already bad, but the trauma of getting dumped is magnified by the suddenness of it all.

So yes, that's exactly what happened to me about two weeks ago.  One day Hannah and I were lovey-dovey, happily and blissfully (at least I thought) in a relationship and spending copious amounts of time together and planning our summer adventures and beyond.  The next, she's weirdly cold and distant, and the next, I'm getting dumped.  Via email.

Okay, so it happening via email is not nearly as bad as getting dumped by post-it, but the text was more or less the same.  "I'm sorry.  I can't.  Don't hate me."

What I had interpreted as minor early relationship jitters turned into a twister that landed, laid waste to our admittedly brief but intense three month relationship, and left nothing but a giant smoldering pile of wreckage in the pit of my chest.  Yeah, it kinda sucked.

The first reaction I had, after the initial shock of it set it, was hysterical confusion.  What the heck just happened?  How did this happen?  What did I do?  And, the scariest question of all: what do I do now?

The first impulse of most people is to ask the dumpee why they're doing what they're doing, to not only understand what is going on but to make an attempt to renegotiate your way back into the relationship and make the pain and confusion go away.  This is not what I did, but I did ask her why she was doing what she was doing, and gently gave her a door to reconsider.  I asked Hannah whether she was sure that this was what she really wanted, and that she should maybe take some time and think about what she's doing.  She responded with an even more resolute email stating, more or less, that she realized that she was not ready for a relationship of any kind and the emotional obligation and messiness that all relationships have, at this stage of her life.

And this is where things can really go two ways.  Because, lets be honest.  Any answer the dumper gives is going to be unsatisfactory.  After all, this is the person who just took your still-beating heart, ripped it from your chest, and crushed right in front of your eyes, a la Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  Nothing he or she really says is going to make much sense or make it much better.  In fact, they might as well be saying "Kali Ma" while they're doing it, because that would just as comprehensible.

And, well, often times reactions can be pretty damn extreme, especially if the dumpee has never been dumped or gotten their heart broken before.  I've heard and witnessed stories of non-stop calling, texting, cyber-stalking, physical stalking, property destruction, and (thankfully empty) threats of suicide all to get some emotional response out of the dumper in a desperate attempt to make them feel bad get them to realize the error of their ways and reengage in the relationship.

The harsh reality is that these things happen for a reason and that we can't make someone come back to us, or even make them explain themselves in a logical and coherent manner.  The only thing we, as dumpees, can do is conduct ourselves with dignity, class, and grace.  Often times, our dignity is the most important thing we can carry out of a relationship, and ironically, dignity is the first thing people are willing to give up when they are in the midst of heartbreak.

And this is where my former ex (lets call her Liz) comes in.  When I broke up with Liz, she also did not see it coming.  While, in retrospect, our relationship was clouded by doubt (mostly on my end) for years, when we were together we were a very happy and very healthy couple (the story of our breakup and the subsequent fallout for me will be the subject of a future blog post).  When I broke up with her, she was shocked and, understandably, absolutely devastated.  But she handled it with the utmost grace and dignity.  She cried, of course, and she was emotional and heartbroken.  But she was accepting of my reasons, didn't interrogate me, and didn't push or badger me emotionally.  She began the difficult healing process and committed to it.  She didn't call me in tears, didn't respond in anger, and didn't make me feel guilty for breaking her heart.  There is a reason why she remains one of the most awesome most emotionally mature people I know.

And, as I have done in the past, I took my cues from her.  I wished Hannah the best, and told her that I hoped she found what she was looking for in life.  I told her that I would need time to heal and I could not be her friend, at least for the near future.  I quietly unfriended her and the people I met through her from facebook, and I deleted her number from my phone and all her texts and email.  And I started the healing process on my own and committed myself to moving on.

One of the most important lessons I learned being single is that you can't control how other people react to you, you can only control how you respond to them.  I can't make Hannah come back to me, and I can't know whether she wants to or whether she's moving on blissfully with her life.  I don't know whether she's staying up at night crying herself to sleep over what she gave up or whether she's happily with some other man by now.  All I can do is look out for myself in this time of heartbreak, and that means doing what I need to do to move on.

So, thank you Liz, for showing me how to conduct myself with dignity, grace, and class.  A good relationship continues to teach you life lessons long after they're done, and for that, I'm forever thankful.