How to Survive Heartbreak Hotel

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by Jemarion Jones

I recently discovered that a man that I cared for deeply didn't really care about me at all. Basically it was all lies and melodrama. How do I know? He got engaged in September, told me he missed me and sent my flowers for my birthday in October, and got married in November. Shonda Rhimes, I'll give you that storyline for free, as long as I get some kind of credit.

I won't go into all the gory details, but I knew an engagement was coming for a while, but knowing and accepting are two different things. We were close friends for a long time before feelings started to develop. I loved him, and I thought he loved me. The timeline that I referenced above is what blew my mind. I found out he got married on Facebook and discovered the engagement date when I googled his name. Now, let that sink in for a minute: He got engaged in September, but told me that he missed me and sent me flowers in October. I did not know in October that he was engaged. I found out everything in November. Did I mention that as recently as August I was also trying to help this mofo find a job? Yeah. Messy would be an understatement.

Anywho, the whole situation left me reeling because it revealed to me what a cowardly, selfish person he really was and left me with the realization that I had invested four years into our...situation and got absolutely nothing out of it except stupid flowers, empty promises and lies by omission. What's worse is that I bear a huge amount of responsibility. I knew our situation was doomed for a long time, but I kept going with it because I didn't value myself and wasn't strong enough to break free. However, it takes two to tango, and he definitely bears as much if not more responsibility for what happened. What he did and how he handled everything was beyond sh****, just in case there was any doubt.

In the immediate aftermath of my wedding discovery, I was understandably angry and hurt. How could he...? How could I...? WHAT IN THE ENTIRE F***!!!????

My emotions were all over the place. I vented and cried to friends over the phone, in person, over text, you name it. Later on, it was the whole struggle with trying not to think about him and get angry and sad because I was not going to let his trifling ass have that kind of power over me. He was her problem now.

Up until recently, I thought I was in a good place about everything until I went to party with a friend.

While there, two guys started talking to me, my friend and her friend. I thought one of the guys was cute and tried to talk to him. I looked cute that night, and thought I had a shot. However, it wasn't meant to be. He took a liking to my friend's friend, and the rest is history. Here I was in a cute little black dress, and he passes me up for a girl wearing a hat, turtleneck and glasses. I felt so rejected that I left the party, not in a huff but in defeat. Ole boy had rejected me, and now it was happening again. I couldn't take it. I had to get out of there.

When I got home, I called my sister and talked in between tears. We both knew I wasn't crying because the guy at the party was so great. This rejection stung because of the ultimate rejection I had experienced in November. What was wrong with me? Why did he choose her? Am I that bad, that awful? Why wasn't I good enough? What did she have that I didn't? How could we have shared what we did for four years, and he still choose someone else? How could he do this to me? How could I do this to myself? Did he ever love me? Was I just a distraction when she wasn't available?

In the midst of this purging and hurt my sister said something simple and yet profound: "He broke your heart." Yes, that was it! No wonder I was still struggling to move on and not hate him. No wonder I was gravitating between border-line hate one minute and hostile faux indifference the next. I'm beyond hurt, I'm devastated. This is what heartbreak feels like, and it's painful as hell.

Here's the good news though: As soon as I admitted that my heart was broken, I felt free of a tremendous burden. I don't know how to explain it, but the acknowledgement alone liberated me in some way. I forgave myself for not getting out of a bad situation sooner. I stopped hating him and wishing bad things for him. Instead, I just hope he understands what he did was not OK and that he doesn't do it to anyone else. A lot of the anger left my spirit (not all, but a lot). I still think about him from time to time and struggle with the idea that he didn't care about me as much as I thought, but it's getting better. I don't need an apology, closure or an explanation. He's still an ass, and it probably wouldn't satisfy me anyway. I'm good, really.

My pastor said it like this: "God always has another." Another job, boo, opportunity, whatever. Since that's the case, let me continue work on myself so that I can distinguish between a counterfeit and the real deal when the next guy comes around.


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By day, Jemarion Jones (@TheRealJCarol on Twitter and @RealJcarol on Instagram) is a detail-oriented communications professional for a major health care association in the Washington, D.C. metro area. Outside of her day job, she blogs at The New Randomness ( and lends her social media expertise to nonprofit organizations.

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