This is Why Polite Breakups Suck

I’d like to thank my girl Hayley, who has posted on the blog a few times before under a pseudonym (catch up here), for sharing some incredible stories of love and heartbreak. Stay tuned every Wednesday over the next few weeks for three chapters of Hayley’s latest story. She gets REAL, and I’m sure y’all will relate. I sure can. Thanks for sharing, Hayley.

You want to share? C’mon. Be brave. Email me at with your story.

Chapter 1: King of My Heart.

I had a great summer. I had a hoement of a summer. Let me quote our Lord and Savior, Taylor Swift as to how I was living my summer: I’m perfectly fine, I live on my own. I’ve made up my mind, I’m better of bein’ alone.  I’m not even kidding! That was my life! I was so happy. I did the classic, I’m not ready to fall in love cause I’m doin’ me boo boo attitude for about three months. And, I loved it. I felt happy. I didn’t need a goodnight text. I didn’t need reassurance from anyone. I was happy with me.

As the seasons changed, so did my heart. Shortly into September, I met the man of my dreams.

He told me, we need to take this chance.  He promised me, you won’t regret this.  He called me beautiful, he wanted to spend time with my family. He showed up to my apartment door at 6am with a coffee to make sure I was awake for an exam that I was feeling very stressed about. I had a terrible flu one night, and he insisted on coming over and hanging up shelves and paintings I had recently purchased for my apartment, because he knew how much it had bothered me that I hadn’t gotten around to it that week.  He met my needs. I put up a fight, but he broke down my walls. I knew that if I let this man out of my life, I would regret it.

Before you start feeling sad for me that this love affair came to an end, here is where I bleached every red flag white.

Have you ever reflected on a relationship with an open mind? It is hard to recount where it all went wrong when you still have your love goggles on. Trust me, I still have mine half-on-half-off as I write this. But I do challenge you to try and see things clearly, even if it only lasts a moment. Sometimes it can help you find your control again

He had just exited a six year relationship with a girl who had broken his heart. They had a house and a dog together. When we met in September, he mentioned they had ended things in June. As we talked and opened up to each other, it was more like…it had officially ended about three weeks before we started talking. He brought her up a lot, but I took it as a therapeutic practice for him. And I didn’t hate the fact that he trash talked her so much. I could tell there was a lot of anger behind his stories, but I couldn’t tell that there was pain. I didn’t understand that he wasn’t receiving closure, as he didn’t really open up about how much of an impact this breakup had on him.  Once she found out that he had moved on, like any little insecure bitch curious ex lover, she began to reach out. His mood changed—he became quiet. I barely heard from him during the day, but I thought that just meant we were over the honeymoon phase. I had no more walls. I was open and I was optimistic.

On a dreary Sunday night, my love had asked me if he could come over and see me.  I looked at myself in the mirror, staring at a makeup free face, a smile filled with wonder, a glimmer of hope in my eyes. I was going to give him a key to my apartment, I was going to tell him that I had fallen in love. When we began talking, I told him that I didn’t want to get married and I had ruled out having children. I had a lot of time to self reflect, and truly knew that this was all stemming from the fear of falling in love again. Feeling giddy as f*ck, and awaiting for his arrival, I turned on one of my favorite movies, Beauty and the Beast (obvi the new one, because Emma Watson is bae). I received a text that went something like this:

Him: I really need to talk to you about something.

Me: Is it something to do with us?

Him: Yes. But I will explain when I get there, I’ll be about a half an hour.


Okay, readers. Here is a PSA. Never, ever ever ever ever, text someone saying that you “need to talk about something.” Either blind side the shit out of them when you see them in person, or make a phone call. Do not give a heads up. It really hurts, and it can really mess with someone. Why I didn’t react great to it is because I do have anxiety, and I tend to spiral without being able to calm down when I get worried. Sometimes things may not be as bad as I am anticipating them to be, but because the stage was set with mystery and uncertainty, I tend to take things very hard.

However in this particular situation, I prepared accordingly. The worst was about to happen.  A tearful love of mine walked into my apartment. I knew something was up, he was standing so awkwardly, and his face looked…unrecognizable. I laughed, because his hands were in his pockets and he looked like a puppy. I laugh when I am uncomfortable, it’s the worst. But what can you do in those moments?  How do you react?

He began with saying that he could not move forward with me. He told me that he had been having a rough few weeks, unsure of how to feel. One part of his heart was holding on to me, the girl he had always dreamed of. One part was holding on to his ex, who he still loved. The third and final part, which scared me the most, was his heart was wanting to be left alone.

By everyone.

According to my clock and the movie I was watching, he spoke to me for about an hour and a half about what he was going through, and why this was the hardest decision he had ever made.

Now, every time I watch Beauty and the Beast, I think of how he left me. Thanks a lot, dipsh*t.

We held each other for along time in silence. All I was able to say is that I had fallen in love with him and wanted him to come back to me. My words did not sound sincere, as I had gone completely numb. He kissed me goodbye and that was it. My head hit the pillow in my big, empty bed around 7pm, and I did not wake up until the next morning.

I had just experienced the most polite break up. He was sincere. Everyone I told from that point on said how fortunate I was to have him communicate his feelings in a mature way, and that he was letting go before things got too serious. I however was not ready to settle for this.

That is where chapter 2 fits. Welcome to self destruction.


2 thoughts on “This is Why Polite Breakups Suck

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