Heartbreak and The Path to Peace

For people who are literally too busy for breakdowns. Also for people who are sick of being stuck in a quagmire of emotions that are getting in the way of living a full life.

You can’t make someone love you if they don’t, or even if they did once but it slipped away. You don’t have the power to change things back. You just don’t.

You can’t make someone happy or fulfilled or excited about being with you. You can influence their well-being with kindness, affection, appreciation, safety, stability, and pleasure, and delight in things like deep conversations, shared laughter, soul nurturing experiences, and genuine demonstrations of support and encouragement.

You can pay attention to what brings out the best in your partner, what boosts their mood, and what brings them down, and you can do your best to foster the good things in their life. And you can love them with all of your heart. But you can’t make them feel the same.

I got a 15-minute confession about his feelings. Five years flew out the window. My future fell out from under my feet. I couldn’t comprehend whether time was a bad dream or a real moment. For days. But I am, essentially, a life coach. And I have a solid journaling practice. On balance, I have peace of mind. At least about some things.

There’s a lot I will never know. Even if I ask, even if he answered, I have to remember the truth is going to be skewed. I didn’t get the courtesy of a hard conversation when it mattered, so what would I get now? He wouldn’t do it on purpose; he’s a good person. He’s emotionally mature (the way he ended things not withstanding), but he’s human and there’s no way for me to ever know the truth that every ounce of my being needs to know.

I know that when he loved me, he loved me. And it was good. And now I know that when he stopped loving me, he stopped loving me. For good.

What do you do with a gut punch like that, especially when it comes out of nowhere? I journal, fortunately.

What I was led to believe was on his mind for the weeks leading up to this confession was not at all about our relationship. He did not talk to me. In all the weeks that he says he struggled with this new reality in his heart, he did not talk to me about any of it. I am left with so much confusion.

Nothing makes sense, except for one undeniable thing.

He switched from being honest with me our entire relationship to being dishonest about what was going on with him, and that right there is the only thing that leaves zero room for guesswork. His feelings for me really did change, completely and irrevocably.

And now he’s just some guy I used to know.

I didn’t ask for this, but here it is.

Adjusting to this new reality is fucking hard. I don’t have time to cry. I literally do not have time or space to melt down. Someone is always around, something always needs my full attention. I blanked out in the car last week, not registering the green light until the second honk from behind me, and since I can’t do that again, especially with my grandkid in the car, I have set my default mode to high alert.

It’s not healthy, but I need to do it, just for now, just while I’m still getting used to the end of so many things. This is where journaling becomes super important; having an outlet is crucial.

The first night, my kids swarmed in to comfort and distract me. I set the rule: No shit talking about this guy I used to date. The situation sucks in the worst way, but I just don’t want anything to discolor the memories. It wasn’t a hard sell; my kids really did love and care about him, each in their own way.

The second night, my daughter tucked me under her wing, tried to feed me, and made me watch trash TV until bedtime.

People kept looking at me like they were waiting for me to cry. My very favorite people offered weekends at their homes, cocktails on the town, long walks and longer hugs. Friends I haven’t really talked to in years because of pandemic pivots, time zones, and different priorities have come out of the woodwork to offer shoulders to cry on.

I just can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t have the luxury of time and space to lodge myself in the cocoon of their care. I have to hold things together for the immediate, legitimate needs of other people in my life who also matter very much – including myself.

Truth check: This is where I stand at the beginning of week three. The only way I can feel okay about this attitude is that I do have an outlet for strong emotions like self-pity, self-righteousness, deep, deep sadness, confusion, and very real mental and emotional pain.

Like I said, I’m a trained life coach with a journaling practice. I teach journaling, I throw down 30-day journaling challenges in the writing community I run, I encourage every new client to begin with journaling, and I host journaling sessions for those who just want to quietly gather in a safe place with someone there who can guide them through tough emotions if necessary.

When I say journaling has helped me find peace of mind, I mean it. I have been elbows deep in my Daily Pages for two solid weeks and two fitful days. The first day, I did it twice without realizing it. Every other day, it’s been three solid pages of open honesty and emotion processing. I’m 100 percent sure I’ll be doing this for a while – the end of this relationship is no small thing, and my mental health and emotional wellbeing are even more important.

The thing is, without any discussion leading up to the End Of Everything, I can only speculate about the things I don’t know. That 15-minute confession (if it was even that long), didn’t tell me anything real. Speculation leads to looping in a journal, unless you know how to speak your speculations and move through them.

It’s hard to be okay with knowing I’ll never know what my entire being needs to know, but journaling is the hard work that will get me there, get me to okay with no answers.

As a human being in her 50s, I have learned to make peace with what I need to know but will never be allowed to know. Why my father did what he did when he was alive. Why my ex-husband did what he did when we were married. Why that person did what they did when everyone else was merging on the freeway.

But making peace with turmoil is a process. It’s not something you can rub dirt on and then magically get your head back in the game.

For me, and for so many human beings out here trying to find their way through the morass of sucker punches life hands out on an irregular, unpredictable, infuriatingly often basis, writing my way through the shock and pain to peace of mind and some kind of equanimity is the best way to move forward. It’s the only way to move forward, because I don’t have other options right now.

Here’s where I tell you August is a 30-day Daily Pages challenge month in To Live & Write. Here’s where I invite you to do it along with us, with me. And here’s where I let you know I’m available to guide you through difficult emotions. When I guide people in their journaling, I use my life coach training and what I’ve learned so far about the real-world applications of positive psychology—without poisoning the well with toxic positivity or random affirmations that have no context.

It’s not a quick fix, but if you understand how to do it the right way, journaling is a practice you can lean into your entire life, any time you’re feeling anything – and even when you’re feeling nothing.

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