This is a story of aliens and acceptance. Maybe it’s less of a story and more of a messy stream of consciousness about a breakup. It’s probably that, but either way, it’s mostly about opening your arms to acceptance, and a few other lessons from a breakup and an alien. Maybe you can take something away from this chaotic spiel of feelings, whether it’s a piece of advice, a feeling or a thought. And if not, I at least hope that it’s somewhat of an enjoyable read. I hope that however this piece of writing is interpreted, you can sense the fondness and care that runs throughout this story – even if some anger spills out in the process. Heartbreak feels completely unparalleled in its weirdness, beauty, awfulness and confusion. But most of all its spectacularly messy.
He wasn’t always an alien. He was a guy I met through friends in a shared accommodation during freshers’ week in first year. I immediately liked everything about him. I liked having someone to like and being liked back. I liked having someone to tell all the small and inconsequential details about my day to. I liked the way he listened. I liked our instant connection over music. In the first weeks of knowing each other, we probably sent over 100 songs we thought the other would like. My very carefully curated playlist became tainted by what feels like hundreds of sad sentimental songs – not ideal. But oh well. Life eventually goes on and the sad sentimental attachment to those songs lessens and lessens, until one day you’ll be able to overhear him singing them in the shower of your uni house and it won’t make you sob. The songs get happy again and thank God that they do. And you’ll even find other people to tell all the details about your day to. I promise.Â
When it came to deciding houses for second year, our friend group broke off into two groups and (regrettably) we ended up in the same house. At the time, none of our friends really knew the whole story about us liking each other, or at least not to the full extent, and other friends knew nothing at all. And you’re probably thinking, why the hell did you start dating someone you’re going to move in with in a year’s time? But we already liked each other, and we spoke about it, and he reassured me it would all be okay, so I guess I just thought life’s too short not to date someone now because of what is going to happen in a year’s time. And I did really, really like him.
So we started seeing each other even more, and when he asked me to be his girlfriend a month later, I said yes. I met his family a month and a half after that, and he met most of mine in the following months. We spent the summer together and then suddenly it was time to move in. It lasted a week. One week to the day actually; we both moved in on a Sunday and he broke up with me the Sunday after. But he didn’t really leave, he just took his toothbrush and went downstairs.
I was completely blindsided by the breakup, and the months following are just one messy blur, and yeah, there are definitely things to be angry about, but I’ll save those stories for another time. I became totally and completely paralysed by proximity. It felt horrible, knowing he was only one flight of stairs away and yet I couldn’t reach him. So, I started imagining that the body and soul of my ex was taken over by an extraterrestrial being who just came down to earth one day and landed in my uni house. I guess that’s one of my top pieces of breakup advice, especially if you still have to share somewhat of a life with them. Just imagine them as an alien. Imagine green antennas, huge eyes, no skeletal structure, a really big head maybe? That type of thing. But, on a more serious note, I’m beginning to accept that you can’t cling on to the idea you had of someone. People disappoint you, whether they mean to or not. That’s just something they do. So, until you can look at them in a semi-normal way, just imagine them as some kind of supernatural being that touched down on earth and somehow ended up downstairs.
Genuinely though, navigating living with my ex-boyfriend and sharing a group of friends at university really messed me up. Breakups are incredibly difficult anyway, and having never loved someone properly before him, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I genuinely cannot conjure up an appropriate word to describe how I felt during my breakup. I was in a constant state of deep sadness, distress and pure heartbreak. Is there even a word for all of those feelings plus probably another hundred? And what’s the word for feeling them all at once?
I never imagined, after all the things he told me when we were together, that we would end up here, but I think I’ve finally let go of the idea of him being my soulmate. In an ideal world, my soulmate doesn’t just get up and leave on a random Sunday night with no real explanation or self-awareness to even attempt to properly explain. Ideally my soulmate is a lot of things that this guy wasn’t. Jesus! How angry did that sound?
Anyway, I guess the point of this diary entry is to learn to accept. I live with my ex-boyfriend, and after ten months of love bombing (which was really nice at the time) and then a messy breakup, and then a lot of sadness followed by a lot of anger, I think I have finally reached acceptance. Acceptance of what? I don’t really know. Acceptance of lots of things, I guess. Acceptance that I was probably a lot sadder than he ever was. Acceptance that all the anger was once love and that’s okay. Acceptance that he may never fully understand how badly he hurt me. Acceptance that we weren’t meant to be. Acceptance that he may have already moved on. Acceptance of all of it, because what are you going to do instead of accepting? You can’t stay still forever.
Let them love you and then let them leave you. And make sure you feel all of it. Feel every sad moment. Feel every happy moment. Scream that scream. Write that letter (but maybe don’t send it, set it on fire instead or something). Dance alone and really outrageously in your bedroom. Be loud in your grief. Feel it all and be unapologetic when you do. Aside from the alien thing, letting yourself feel it all is probably the biggest piece of breakup advice I have for you. Letting yourself feel it all grants you a certain silence, and so does acceptance. And the silence after that is blissful and totally worth it. I promise.
There have been an infinite number of lessons from this breakup. Lessons about myself, about what true friendship looks like and how you should cherish these more than anything. Invest in those people and those friendships. I definitely wouldn’t be here without them. This breakup has taught me lessons about my view on almost everything in life but also about him. Who I thought he was, and who he turned out to be. But perhaps most importantly, about who I thought I was and who I turned out to be. It’s taught me to feel it all, even when you don’t want to or if it feels completely exhausting. To stop pouring so much into hands that were never holding a cup in the first place. That’s another invaluable lesson, because you deserve someone who thinks you’re too important to lose. So, protect your peace and do so unapologetically. Put yourself first and if it helps, create silly metaphors about aliens.
There’s an alien in my house and I can’t reach him anymore. Acceptance!!!