This is going to be my last Breakup Diaries column, I think. I feel like I’ve reached an end to the deep mourning process that is a breakup and with 2009 being a new year, I’m ready for a fresh start. While my mind feels ready for that, and my body too (thanks $527 make out!), my dream life apparently hasn’t gotten the memo. Since the breakup occurred, I’ve dreamed about my ex, in some way, at least every other night. And it’s starting to piss me off.The night before the big Officially Official Breakup (four days prior to the $527 make out, for those keeping a calendar), I was in Vermont, visiting my best friend from childhood. I had an awful, terrible dream where I was desperately trying to find out from my ex why he left, what I could do to change his mind, what he could do to make me understand. I got nowhere. In the morning, my friend told me I was whimpering and crying in my sleep, which was both embarrassing and infuriating. Hadn’t I cried enough over that fool during my waking hours? Why couldn’t my dream life be a nice cushy escape filled with Ryan Gosling and puppies?
The dreams are all the same echoing my desire, even now, to know what the hell happened. They’re less about being devastated or angry than they are about finding out answers. I think this is obviously because I still don’t know what happened between him and I, when it happened, and whether anything could have been done — had I, you know, been included in his decision making process — to save it. At this point, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s for the best, that we clearly weren’t right for each other on a truly long term, till-we’re-old-and-gray basis. No man that I would want to spend my life with would cut me out of his life in such a swift and decisive and emotionally detached way. But still. You think you know someone and then you don’t and then it feels like they are gone and all you want in the world is answers. I’ve stopped seeking them in real life, but clearly my subconscious hasn’t given up yet.