Day 4

Even the worst fights between me and Dave were civil. There was never any name-calling, yelling, no throwing stuff around or storming out of the apartment, no silent treatments. Once, I lobbed an empty water bottle at the opposite wall from where Dave was standing. He never let me live that down. Occasionally, I would raise my voice. But when I saw the effect that it had on him, I would speak more softly.

When we broke up, we said that we would remain civil. We would not let things get ugly, the way many couples do. I promised to remain kind, understanding and gentle. I also promised to refrain from reaching out, said he would never hear from me again. A clean break.

I kept both of those promises. For four days.

On the morning of the fourth day, my sorrow and heartbreak turned unexpectedly to rage of the highest order. I may explain one day why I was angry and why much (or some?) of it is justified but that is not the point of this post. To point is, I was completely overcome. I felt as if I was turning to fire and ice at the same time. And so, with the fiery furor of someone who feels wronged, scorned and abandoned and with the icy coldness of someone who wants to inflict maximum damage with no regard for the consequences, I began writing Dave a text.

I typed the nastiest, most unkind, cruelest and abominable thing I have ever put into words. When I was done, I read it over. I told myself that sending this text would be inexcusable, shameful and wrong. I thought about saving it elsewhere on my phone. I told myself to go to sleep and that I would feel better when I woke up. But the fiery rage scorched my reasoning and the ice froze my heart.

I hit send.

There is nothing good or redeeming about what happened next. I broke my promise. I hurt one of the people I love the most. I failed.

The answer to one's pain is never to hurt the person who caused it. Heartbreak is not something you can give back or force onto someone else. Trying to inflict damage only inflicts suffering on yourself.

That is all.