There are many costs associated with a breakup, but I can put an actual price tag on mine: $2349.36. Ouch.
And, despite the fact that that’s a pretty hefty number (at least in my world where paychecks still start with the number 1) it doesn’t even begin to compare to the emotional cost.
When you spend a couple years (prime years, fertile years) in a meaningful relationship, it feels lazy, careless, reckless even, to throw it away.
You may even question why you ended it at all.
But then, in the days and weeks after a split, you’re bombarded with real life. You finally see things for how they were. The rose colored glasses are not only gone, they have fallen to the ground, shattered, and transformed into a pile of pinkish sand. Your world is unrecognizable. You’re exposed to the remnants of once-strong friendships and neglected family members. You glimpse missed deadlines, rotting groceries, and an iPhone calendar full of recurring anniversaries that need to be deleted.
As you reflect on your situation, you might become aware of just how many opportunities you missed out on over the course of your relationship.
For instance, maybe you didn’t join the neighborhood soccer league because practice was on Thursdays – your date night – and you didn’t want to inconvenience your significant other by messing up your little routine. Or maybe, when girlfriends planned last minute happy hours after work, you felt like you couldn’t join in the fun because you were supposed to watch Jeopardy with your boyfriend.
Well now date nights are dunzo and the soccer season is underway and you’re alone in your apartment and everything is back to the way it was. Quiet. Still. It feels like the calm before the storm except a tornado definitely just ripped through your world.
You’re off kilter, but healing. You’re sad, but less so every day.