We didn’t even go into the coffee shop because our silent walk there had erased any appetite for a beverage either one could have had. She hadn’t spoken to me for a full week, so I knew prognosis was not going to be good. I knew that after today — after this conversation — our relationship wouldn’t be the same as before.
We sat in the cold metal chairs beneath an overcast sky as — I haven’t the slightest idea as to what she actually said — she told me that there was no more hope for a romance between us. We could be friends, but…
It was as if all the dominoes inside of me that had been lining up over the past two years had been flicked and were beginning their spiral tumble. They weren’t all down yet, but the pieces had begun their descent.
It’s almost the same as going into physical shock: Your brain somehow prevents the pain from setting in right away, despite what you already cognitively know. Though there seemed to be a physical weight on me after the succinct conversation, I somehow made it back to campus and we parted ways in the courtyard.
I took the elevator up to my dorm room, still stunned. Still wishing that her week of silence had really meant something else, as thin a hope as that may have been.
Now, this is the part that has always stuck with me: I entered my room and couldn’t do anything. I fell onto my bed in a half-sit/half-lie amidst the mess of pillows and blankets and didn’t move. I didn’t text or call anyone. Didn’t open my laptop. Didn’t read. Didn’t cry. Just sat/lay there for over an hour unable to think of what I should possibly do.
Breakups are hard.
It’s easy to observe someone else’s relational collapse and perhaps feel a pang of sympathy followed by moving on with your day (perhaps that’s just apathetic me), but from within, as I can attest, they are crushing. They are suffocating and shocking. I can’t even imagine the deep wells which are demolished within people who undergo a divorce or an affair.
Nevertheless, in a season of rupture, words of wisdom, advice and encouragement are needed. So, here are some of the best I’ve accrued over the years.
World’s Second Best Spouse
A number of days after my motionless hour, I met with a deeply southern professor at the school. He’s the one everyone went to for their romantic advice, and there’s a reason. He was simply bursting with experience and wisdom. I told him my situation, and in his thick yet snappy southern drawl, he replied,
“Nahw Ethan! Cecilia may be thee second best wahfe for you. But when it comes to something as serious as marriage, we don’t want number two nahw, do we? We want number one! So if the door is closing with Cecilia, that just means that, at best, she was thee second best for you!”
Open your hand, even after the wedding
While his sentiments were accurate, the execution was still painful. I really liked Cecilia a lot and for all intents and purposes, she seemed like my #1 option! I thought I knew her pretty well after two years.
What my professor said next was something I’ll never forget as far as thinking about my marriage. He pulled a pencil out of his shirt pocket and held it in an open palm.
“Nahw Ethan, this is Cecilia. And what you want to do right now (he closed his grip on the pencil) is hold her tight and refuse to let her go…But what you need is to learn how to keep your palm open before the Lord. And if He wants…”
He used his other hand to lift the pencil off his palm.
“He will either keep her there, or He will remove her from your hand. He will do what He wants either way, but it’s easier for you if you’re already holding her in an open hand.”
What he said next is the part that blew me away.
, but from within, as I can attest, they are crushing. They are suffocating and shocking. I can’t even imagine the deep wells which are demolished within people who undergo a divorce or an affair.){kind=link}