As Carrie Bradshaw would say, “Things are so over, we need a new word for over.” Yes, I finally broke things off with D. on Friday, and while I’m happy I did so, his passive-aggressive response to the whole thing is really dredging up bad memories of the weeks surrounding the abortion. I’m starting to view his behavior in a new light: not necessarily an indication that he’s in a lot of pain himself, but definitely a sign that he doesn’t give a damn about my own pain. This realization was so painful that I canceled my group therapy/post-abortion support group session last night. I just didn’t feel like facing those demons while struggling to cope with these new ones. Once again, the abortion — while not being an Active Issue — remains the harbinger of so, so many bad things between us. I wish he’d just grow up and move on and stop causing working so hard to be a complete asshole. Barring that, as with the abortion, all I can really do is focus on myself, my choices, my responsibility to heal myself and my refusal to react to his childishness. This isn’t about being strong; it’s about protecting myself — because surely he doesn’t give a damn about my being safe.

Even though D. and I almost never talk about the abortion (and the weeks before and after, when we weren’t communicating that often), I feel like it’s become a metaphor for all of our problems. All the things that happened when he found I was pregnant — disconnection, abandonment, anger, blaming, guilt-trips — crop up in smaller forms in other disagreements, and I am nearly at my breaking point. I tell myself, I should have been able to get pregnant and have an abortion (that we chose together) without my boyfriend abandoning me. And today — after a disagreement — I find myself saying, I should be able to be disappointed and angry at something he did without him refusing to talk to me. Am I in a relationship or am I in a power struggle to see how quickly my spirit can be beaten down?

I hate my life today. I hate crying, I hate feeling so sad and empty, and I hate that I don’t know when this will ever end. I hate spending my life at 1:32am crying and crying and crying, and getting a headache because of all the crying. I just want it all to end right now, but I don’t see how I can possibly make that happen without hurting myself, and I definitely don’t want to do that in the least. I just want the pain to go away. I’d do anything to just feel nothing right now. Why can’t someone just come and help me and take it all away? I feel so alone and abandoned and just plain unloved, even though I know I’m not. This is what 1:32 am does to me today, I guess.