March part 1

I hate March. I hate it more than any other month. Yes I live in the northern US and yes March is typically when it starts to get nice out, but I hate March.  

I hate it for a very personal reason. R and I broke up in March. March 18, 2010 as a matter of fact. He called me at work and broke up with me over the phone. I was devastated. Devastated doesn’t even begin to describe what I was…what I felt.

Devastated

Wreck

Stressed

Distraught

Heart broken

Deceived

Destroyed

Shattered

Lost

Broken.

Immediately after it happened I emailed by two best girlfriends at work and told them they had to come to where I was RIGHT NOW. They did. Thank God I was not at my desk but in the cafeteria when it happened. (I live in cubeville at work.) I cried for hours in that booth with my girls with me. Literally…hours. I couldn’t keep it together. I had flowers from him sitting on my desk from the day before. Red tulips.

I now hate red tulips.

I had to go to a meeting that afternoon. I had to get those flowers off my desk. I couldn’t just put them in the kitchen with a  “free” tag, because they would have ended up on a friends desk (because I’m lucky like that.)  I took them to a friend in a different building where I knew I would never have to see them again. An acquaintance really. Someone I had done work with, whom I liked, who I valued as a co-worker. She was the first person I thought of when I wanted to get rid of them.  Her team made a big deal about them. I did everything I could not to cry when I explained what had happened and why I couldn’t have them near me. She popped up and hugged me so hard. I started to cry again and she hugged me even harder.

I told her that she could keep them or give them to someone else. I didn’t care as long as they didn’t end up on my floor.  She was wonderful to me. We talked for a few minutes and I had to leave for a meeting. I don’t know what she did with them. She could have thrown them in the garbage for all I cared. We are friends now. Real friends.

I went to my meeting. I had bad news to deliver to my team. It was all I could do to keep it together and run the meeting. I “saw” myself from above leading the meeting. Head down, arms spread out on the table in front of me as though I was a tripod, forehead inches from the table.

And I told them what happened. There was an audible gasp from someone…someone who hated me then and still hates me.  Even she was shocked. They all were. I explained that I was not going to be in the next day. I was not sure about Monday. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

I finished the meeting and went to my manager’s desk. I explained what happened. That I was leaving for the day and was not going to be in on Friday. She told me to do what I needed to do. Take the time I needed. Whatever that meant to me. It was the nicest thing she’s ever done in my 4 years of working with her.

I went home. I went to bed and cried. I cried all night. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. A few friends called me to talk to see if I needed anything, to see if I was ok. Was I ok? No. I wasn’t. I was a wreak. I was destroyed. My heart felt like it had been thrown under a convoy of 18-wheelers.

The next day I went into the office, eye’s puffy and red from lack of sleep and crying, to drop off a “game” for a co-worker’s bridal shower. Yep, a bridal shower that I was supposed to co-host in a couple of days. The universe has a really sick sense of humor. The co-worker that I was meeting with for that hugged me, and suggested that I call my doctor for a sleep aid prescription. Then I was on my way to my sister house 3.5 hours away. I spent the time calling the doctor (and crying through it), going through my MP3 player and deleting all the songs that conjured up even the slightest thought of him, and crying. There was a lot of crying.

I didn’t eat. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t commit to eating anything more than a banana. I couldn’t even finish that. Someone suggested a protein drink. I tried…I couldn’t drink it. I ended up throwing it away.

I got to my sister’s town and stopped at a grocery store and ShopCo for the prescription. It wasn’t ready. They thought it was a joke or something because they didn’t have me in their computer. My sister, yes. Me, no.  Yeah, nice joke. I thought it was all a joke too. One big frickin hilarious joke. I wandered around ShopCo with sunglasses on to cover my eyes.

I got to my sister’s. I went right to the “comfort couch.” I laid down and I cried. I cried until I had no tears left. I told her everything that happened. I wanted to die. She made me sloppy joe’s. My favorite thing in the world to eat. I ate one. I started a second and ended up spitting out the bite I was taking and tossing the rest. She put in a movie…she worked so hard trying to find one that would cheer me up that didn’t have any mention whatsoever of a love scene or people being in love, or even words that started with the word “L.”

Then bed. I made her take my phone and work phone with her. I think…or she made me give them to her. Either way, they were in another room that night. And each moment she was not there to supervise me.