sunkissed postmortem

Work turned into a harsh reality check. I managed to stay productive while dealing with a heavy heart.

It was probably one of the easiest things to do during this time, surprisingly. Occasionally, one of my coworkers would make an innocent comment about how my spark had faded. The loud laughter that would fill the room was now quieter, replaced by something softer and heavier. I know they didn't mean it in a mean way, they were worried. They hated what happened to me, and rightfully so. 

I felt like a duller version of myself, unsure of how to find that brightness again. The worst part of my day was walking into my apartment, dark, lonely,  and with a pile of souvenirs in the corner that would haunt me for months. Sadness would hit me like a bullet train, but I´d manage to eat and go to bed.

Like all good grieving people, I had a rebound. To no one´s surprise, it was Matt. Yes, the British guy with the girlfriend. He messaged me one night because he needed to talk, and he told me he was going through a pretty bad breakup himself. He found out his girlfriend of five years had been cheating on him for the last two. Not only that, but they were supposed to travel to the UK in a week to meet his family, and he was going to propose. And I thought I had it bad. I helped him quietly pack his stuff and move out of the apartment they shared together, all while she was away. We did end up hooking up; that's where the concept of "trauma bonding"  made sense.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and before I knew it, it was 4th of July. 

I had reconnected with a friend who had moved into my building. Shawn was one of the first people I´d met in one of my many nights out back in 2022. He dragged me out of my apartment to a pool party to celebrate America the great. He was also hanging out with people who were already drunk and in the pool, so I guess he needed the sober company. 

It had been a while since I´d felt welcomed by a group of strangers. They were all charismatic, attractive in their own way, conventionally and non-conventionally. We´d get together often, maybe not all of us, but most of us. Sometimes just the girls for a little cocktail hour, or all of us (plus whoever else we met earlier that day at the pool) for some grilling and dinner. We celebrated birthdays, breakups, makeups, anniversaries, and first dates. It was just what I needed, a healthy and supportive friend group. 

At the same time, I was having weekly sessions with my therapist, Christine. She helped me realize what was going on in my brain because I had never been able to fully understand what grief is about, the stages, and how it can manifest physically and emotionally. Slowly but surely, my spark was coming back thanks to understanding more about this (and a new, much needed dose of Zoloft)

Here is what I learnt that summer:

- Grief is not linear; it's more like a roundabout.

- Just because a relationship is short doesn't mean it's not meaningful.

- Feelings are not facts.

- I'm very self aware and emotionally intelligent.

- Feeling deeply is not a bad thing, and I'll live an emotionally rich life because of it.

- I didn't lose him; I had lost myself trying to be loved.

- Some people are not meant to stay forever; some are just lessons needed to be learnt.

- I had been grieving that relationship since the first bender he went on.

And just like that, the days turned shorter and the nights colder. It was Autumn again. I met some of the most fun, caring people that summer. I don't think I ever fully thanked them for pulling me out of the grief I was in. So if you´re reading this, thank you.