The Strangeness of Breaking

It is completely unnatural, this breaking up we do. Someone was in your life. A steady, firm, foundational part of your life. They became the voice. They became the shoulder. They became the face and the hands that you hold. And then, quite suddenly they are gone. Completely, and utterly gone.
They did not move. They did not die. They did not recieve a call from God to pursue revivals in a different part of the city. They are just, simply, gone from your life.
Two days ago Jordan and I broke up. We spent a lovely two weeks in cities across Europe. We laughed and talked and felt frustrated and confused. And then, suddenly, we broke up.
I sat yesterday in a car off the side of the road watching the sun drop below the Colorado mountains, staining the sky with yellows and purples and reds and I wondered at that phrase. We. Broke. Up.
Something does break when things end, doesn't it? Something small, or big, whatever the case may be, breaks inside of us.
I sat in the car and I felt the first waves of those little, broken pieces moving inside of me. I felt the first wave when it feels like your soul may burst through your stomach and leave you in little pieces. I felt the first steps of the knees weakening, which when followed through leaves you facing your hands which are clasping the ground as if trying to remember which is the floor and which is the ceiling because the room doesn't stop spinning.
But, I didn't break this time, Tash. And when the little quake passed, when the little wave settled, I was okay.
And maybe this is the part that confuses me most...I. am. okay. He was in my life for a year and a half. He became my closest friend in Southern California. He made me laugh. I believed in him. He was good. And yet, I am okay.
But, on day two, the novacaine stil hasn't worn off. I will let you know if the pieces are still held together on day 25.