When They Rebound From You
By: Jennifer M. Wilson
Tags: Relationships, Marriage, Love, Breakups, Divorce

When They Rebound From You

Why it hurts.

Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

This past year has been a shitshow. For all of us. It’s put a strain on relationships. Children no longer visiting their elderly grandparents due to their high-risk factors. Coworkers stuck bonding via Zoom when there’s no eye contact because they’re looking into the camera lens. Romantic relationships — especially those cohabitating — were put to the test.

My husband and I were already a hot mess before COVID. I was having an affair and he was addicted to massage parlors. Divorce was a regular topic of discussion for years. Neither of us is a fit for this marriage. Cue the internet trolls who will leave scathing comments about my affair and the ending of my marriage.

While my affair played a profound effect on my heart and person, we both knew that statistically, we weren’t going to be a success if we left our spouses for each other.

Our marriages were already clinging for life support and it was time to put them to rest (regardless of each other). After a divorce, we’d both need to fuck around and get dating life out of our systems.

A year of talking about camping trips, horror movie marathons, galas with fancy clothes, and an ultimate trip to Greece were placed in a mental brain box with the label Maybe-One-Day taped in front. If fate should allow us to have a true chance down the road, then that box with our special team name (yeah, we were cheesy) could be opened.

I asked him to get his dating out of his system. I expected him to sort out his marriage while grieving about us, move out, then date multiple people. If he hit it off with one of them down the road and it turned into a committed relationship, then all the power to him. That meant our potential relationship just wasn’t meant to be.

His definition of “dating” was different from mine. His definition was, “ask out the only person I can think of going on a date with” who isn’t the kind of woman you just fuck around with. You know the type. There are women you have light fun with, especially after a breakup. And then there are the ones who are “wifey” types; the ones who are respectable and are taken home to meet mom.

Within a split second of us splitting up, he didn’t date around. He rebounded and found a long-term girlfriend while simultaneously moving out from his marital home. So much for him “getting 20 years of being with one person out of my system”.

Is he within his rights to do so? Of course. I never owned him and his path post-breakup without me is completely his choice. There was no contract and if he wanted to forget my existence after I walked out the door, that’s his prerogative.

I’m not the girl who wallows after a breakup. And yet, I’m destroyed on the inside. This is one of the few times a relationship ended on good terms; it’s a lot easier to move on when you never want to see that person’s face ever again.

Right now, I’d do anything to see his face and that smile that made me melt when I first met him. Still, it’s not like me to dwell and ruminate…I’ve been around the breakup block, I know the drill with getting over someone.

This is different. Something isn’t sitting right with me and it’s playing on a loop in my brain. I figured out why it hurt so much that he rebounded the blink of an eye with a potential long-term relationship person: he took the Maybe-One-Day box and simply handed it to her. When there has been a period of time, that Maybe-One-Day box gathers dust in the back corners of our minds. Our box still had the new car smell.

Right now you, the reader, are thinking “well this author doesn’t sound like a psychopath at all” while you slowly back away. I’m not going to get all Glenn Close and boil his kids’ bunny. As I said at the beginning, I have no ownership over anything. He was within his rights to even propose to the first person he saw seconds after I walked away if that’s what he wanted.

It doesn’t take away that his rebounding hurts like a motherfucker. It’s hard to not think, “oh cool, we couldn’t make it work long term because of our situations but fantastic that you found a wifey-type for a long term relationship and handed the box of Maybe-One-Day over to her.” I bear the other woman no ill will (really wish I didn’t know who she was but how else would the knife have turned counter-clockwise in my back when he texted me something that was meant for her?).

In fact, I bear neither of them any ill will. That’s not my point. If they’re meant to be, they’re meant to be. I just want them to form their own box of future memories but because the rebound happened so quickly (and judging by the content that I received that was meant for her), the lack of grieving transferred his emotion for me to her like an ATM transaction.

And, along with the feelings, the Maybe-One-Day box.