Military to Mayhem

18 August 2025

It took four days to get in touch with him. Four days of anxiety and imaging the worst. Was it a car crash, did he get arrested, or is it something worse? When he finally picked up, all I got was a “Yeah I’m fine, talk later”. Moral of the story? Christmas in June doesn’t last forever. 

A broken heart is the worst kind of pain. Although your heart doesn’t break physically, but it feels like it. The shattering pain when you find out information you didn’t want to know. Would it be better off not asking questions to keep the peace? When he came back I had a million questions to ask him. Why was he gone for four days? Why didn’t he answer my phone calls and text? What was he doing during those four days? Instead, I only asked one question. Did you care about how I felt while you were gone? I watch his face turn into that nonchalant look when I asked.The kind that acts tough but is actually a shield. He had nothing to say. Did he really care?

There’s nothing more uncomfortable than being in the same house with your ex-lover. Every step feels like you’re walking on egg shells. Conversations shorten to just the necessities. Did you pay your half of rent? Are you going to get groceries? Days of heavy silence passed until he finally spoke. We went back and forth untangling why he left. Finally he said the words no one wants to hear. 

“I just don’t want to be with you anymore.”

My heart sank to my stomach. My throat felt like it had a lump in it. My heart shattered into a thousand shards of glass. Like any person would do, I decided to conduct my own “investigation”. I had to know why. During my search, I found numerous of dating apps on his phone. All messaging other women asking for meet ups. My heart shattered all over again. I didn’t want to believe it was true, but the truth was undeniable. 

Trying to focus at work after your ex-lover says he doesn’t want to be with you anymore and finding dating apps is the hardest thing to bear. I kept replaying the conversation over again in my mind like a broken record. Did I do something wrong in the relationship? Was this my fault? Could I have prevented this? Eventually, my coworkers began to notice my demeanor change. I was filled with sorrow, grief, and melancholy, a walking gray cloud ready to pour with rain. I wasn’t in the mood to be social. I wanted to finish work, go immediately home, and bury myself underneath the blankets, shutting out the world. 

No one warns you about the developed post-breakup anxiety. Manifesting in numerous ways. It starts with intrusive thoughts, racing thoughts, restless nights, and the god awful headaches from crying until you’re empty and numb. The panic attacks by scenarios you create in your own mind. Dreading work. Not feeling at home. Wondering what unwanted guest might be waiting at home. Luckily we made a rule for no new partners in the house. Even in the middle of heartbreak, that boundary kept me from fully spiraling. 

Finally, I’ve had enough. At the same time as my heartbreak I was separating from the Navy. Thankfully I could break from the lease with my separation papers. Without them I would have been stuck living with my ex-lover until later that fall. 

I started planning my trip back home to Virginia from Washington State. It seemed impossible to do, especially with no help or support, just me. My orders allowed me 10 days to move, but I managed to pack everything in less than five days. The agonizing silence in that apartment was unbearable. It left me in my thoughts replaying our conversations in my mind. That silence gave me the courage to leave. Not one should feel like a stranger in their own home. 

I crammed everything I could into my tiny Hyundai Venue, my clothes, a few essentials, and my two cats. Everything else stayed behind. The couch, the dressers, the dishes, things I worked hard for he kept. That made me resentful. He cheated on me, and somehow he still got to keep the comfort of the home we built. 

I didn’t have any energy to fight it. I was too tired, too empty. I chose myself instead.  On Thursday, I drove away. I left behind the couch, the dishes, and the dressers. But I took my freedom with me. Freedom from the military and freedom from a toxic relationship.

And I never looked back.