I FEAR nothing can explain the damage I caused all those around me, yet I have no outlets, and nowhere to go, because I am on a ship at sea.
My girlfriend I love deeply broke up with me after six years. We spoke about marriage, and we spoke about kids. We were awesome together, and I wish things worked out differently.
You see, I was married but separated when we started seeing each other. Before you say anything, let me tell you: I stayed with my wife to help her with psychological issues. We had a daughter together, and I felt I had to be the saviour.
I always wanted to divorce; this was never a question in my mind. I was simply paralyzed with fear to act. Two months ago, I told my wife I was finalizing the divorce, and told my daughter I was seeing someone. The very next day, without a clue, I received a breakup e-mail.
The suddenness, the coldness of the breakup, is what is so hard to understand. To be broken up with by e-mail after six years of reassuring each other, it was brutal.
I responded with love and understanding in an e-mail, and let her know I still cared. But it was hard, since we had time-zone issues.
I received a nicely written reply. She said she had moved on, and wanted me to do the same. A week later, I sent her a 10-page letter outlining my feelings. I also sent an e-mail wishing her a happy birthday, and got blocked by her on a social network site.
The questions that plague me are: Will she regret breaking up with me in this manner? Will she ever take me back? I am hoping when the divorce is final, that somehow I may be able to reconnect.
The moral of my story is live your life in the truth; be present in the moment; and be happy.
Bruce
Bruce,
You say you’ve learned to live in the present, to be true to yourself, and to be happy. Those are all fine lessons, but the intent of your letter is this: I’ve learned my lesson, now I want my reward.
But the lesson is the reward. When we learn a hard lesson, it is the loss that cannot be undone, which is the only reward we should expect. If she were with you now, you would not have learned any lesson.
It doesn’t matter what your excuse is, she dated a married man for six years. How many times did she give you another three months and another three months and another three months?
We suspect she won’t live in fond recollection of you, but sorry she wasted six years. With another man, she could be five years married with two kids.
Before you close this chapter of your life, consider other lessons you might have learned. First, the lesson of your marriage: You married a woman who was unsuitable for you. Do you understand why? Have you changed that element in yourself which allowed the marriage to occur?
Second, have you learned the lesson of time? Each hour we do nothing, but make decisions. Decisions are powerless unless acted upon. Wavering and hesitancy are themselves decisions, not the postponement of decisions. And irresolution is the worst kind of decision. It closes off our options.
Finally, there is another lesson: A lesson you learned in childhood. It is about a boy who guarded sheep.
One day out of boredom, he cried, “Wolf!” When villagers rushed to his aid, they discovered it was a prank. Another day, the boy did the same thing. That’s why when a wolf came, no one responded.
You cried wolf for six years. That was too many years for her. “Rebuilding,” a book by Bruce Fisher and Robert Alberti, can help you rebuild your life without her.