Love Letter From Seoul

DoD, Ep. 23: Summertime Sadness aka The Hits Just Never Stop Coming

That’s what J.Lo said. Ouch. I’m one of the (few?) people who was rooting for Bennifer 2.0, even as their divorce watch¹ started a few months back. Now, they’re spending the summer apart (she in Positano² and the Hamptons; he in LA). Ben has reportedly moved his stuff out of their $60 million mansion, which is currently for sale.

I’m sad.

Not because two celebrities I don’t have a Kevin Bacon connection to³ are divorcing, but because I’m also in the middle of a breakup while thousands of miles away in Seoul and honestly, it feels so shitty I want to die sometimes⁴. I’d planned a summer of rest and relaxation after finally putting my divorce six feet under, but no, the universe just loves handing out its lessons. To me.

I’ve been going through the double rainbow of grief and sorrow:

Shock
Fear
Anger
Ugly crying
Panic attacks
Sleeplessness
Not eating
Constant ruminating
Fear
Anger
Wailing
Writing, writing, writing
Overwhelm
Overburdening my best friends in every time zone westwards from Asia⁵
Calling my therapist daily
Ugly crying

I wonder if J.Lo feels like me? Stars, they’re just like us…

Unlike Mrs. Affleck, I never publicized my relationship. I didn’t document our love anywhere except in my private journals and my iPhotos, because I’m superstitious about love and I was going through my very terrible divorce. I tend to believe if you bomb social media with your love story, it’s probably going to blow up in your face, sooner rather than later.

Now that it’s blown up in private, I wonder if I should have been more public with my happiness? Don’t people love to see love?⁶ Would it have made our love more permanent, not so gossamer as it feels right now, because more strangers on the internet knew it existed? Would it have made me happy to see digital photos of us live on for eternity, like the ones of me and my ex-husband that just won’t disappear?⁷

Though having to delete your former lover from your feed is probably torturous.

Still, I think having a time capsule of a momentous love (like J.Lo’s Greatest Love Story Never Told) is probably a wonderful thing… eventually… when you’re old.

Next time I fall in love, I will shout it from the rooftops, take a thousand more photos, and blast them everywhere because the bliss and magic of falling so far and fast in love should be captured somehow.

Neurochemical-induced euphoria with a sleight of destiny’s hand: Falling in love is the best drug in the world, periodt. The loss of it is agony, the most painful withdrawal ever.

Um, how is this a love letter, you may be scratching your head?

Because as I grieve and sob and relive and regret—as I go through these tidal emotions and changes for the second time in a decade⁸—I can almost understand that just because your relationship ends doesn’t mean the love wasn’t real or even has to stop. It’s simply transforming. Like everything does. Change is the only constant in this life/simulation.

The hardest thing for me, in both my divorce and this breakup, is that the dreams you’d had for the future go poof in the ether. They’ll eventually be replaced by other ones and different people, but because of my core wound (survival), one of my enduring dreams is to grow old with someone, to have each other’s backs until the end of time. Every time it doesn’t happen, I am severely debilitated.

This pales in comparison to Jen and Ben, who apparently spent a fortune on building their brand together and now have to watch all that money (and future earnings) go down the divorce drain. Not to mention whatever their dreams were for some luxurious joint burial ground.

That’s got to suck hard. I’m sorry, Jen (not so much, Ben).

Anyway, our phones are listening to us and scarily feeding us what we want, but Instagram has been a goldmine of heartbreak healing for me this week. This one is particularly beautiful (the caption more than the grammatically dubious carousel).

rainierwylde

A post shared by @rainierwylde

My absolute best friend in the multiverse, a guru sprite in the form of a Mumbai-based jewelry designer, said the same to me yesterday, “You don’t have to stop sharing love. It’s just at a further distance. The love is still real and still there.”

She also advised me, “Maybe, Maggie, you can finally end a relationship without having to burn it all down.”

Maybe. No promises.

For everyone else going through the grieving process because of their divorce, separation or breakup, you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. And so’s Instagram:

yourdiagnonsense

A post shared by @yourdiagnonsense

So this is what Lana del Rey meant by summertime sadness.

Let’s get over this asap and back at life: Divorce or Date, anyone? (Coming soon…)

1. Divorce watch is just one more reason not to be famous.

2. Positano is one of my favorite places in the world. Just sayin’.

3. Wait, I actually may have a Kevin Bacon connection to them because I was a featured extra in Twelve Monkeys… who can figure that one out?

4. Metaphorical dying… I have to watch my words because lately, my manifestation mojo has been off the charts.

5. For real, NO ONE has better best friends than I do. Guys, I am so sorry I’m putting you through this again, but I swear I’m good now!

6. Or do they secretly want it to implode?

7. Google, you need to update because I’m not his wife and that’s not me in that photo.

8. I’ll say this for having experienced it already: The 2nd time around is supremely awful, but less so than what I went through with my divorce. Thank god.