Haikus With Dani: Breakup Edition

Wel­come to Haikus with Dani: Breakup Edi­tion, the part of the show where Dani comes out and shares her breakup haikus.


It’s been a lit­tle over a month since I broke up with my part­ner of 7 years (and spouse of 6 years).

In so many ways, it’s been unspeak­ably hard. I lit­er­al­ly don’t have tru­ly appro­pri­ate words for this expe­ri­ence, only deep chasms with­in my being that alter­nate­ly flow with rage and sor­row, then ebb with hol­low mis­ery.

There are good times and good things, of course. My health has vast­ly improved. My finances have sta­bi­lized. I’m keep­ing my house in a state that makes me feel com­fort­able and safe in my own lit­tle nest. I’m able to con­cen­trate on my work like I’ve nev­er been able to before. Life, in gen­er­al, is good.

But for those times when life’s ter­ri­ble­ness is indeed unspeak­able, the only words that have come to me have come in frag­ments.

So I decid­ed to put them into haikus.

I’ve com­piled every­thing I’ve writ­ten so far here. They are not list­ed in the order in which they were writ­ten, but rather rearranged to sort of tell the sto­ry of my griev­ing process thus­far.

Part of being human is the impor­tance of being tru­ly seen. And so I offer you this glimpse into my soul, and per­haps into your own.


You are not all bad.
But that doesn’t mean you’re not
ter­ri­ble for me.

I am not all good.
But I can­not be what you
expect me to be.


We love each oth­er,
each in our own way. Yet still
we’re bet­ter apart.


I keep say­ing “we”
when I mean to just say “I.”
Soli­tude comes hard.


You are every­where
in my house, my head, my heart…
how the liv­ing haunt.


I’m con­sumed with guilt
for my improv­ing health; my
body betrays you.


I nev­er real­ized
how often I held my breath
until I could breathe.


All I want­ed was
respect, safe­ty, support…your
“love” was not enough.


The worst part of all:
I’m bet­ter off with­out you
in body and soul.


I missed you today
but you’re the dev­il I know
and soon, it will pass.


I wish you were here
some­times when I’m lone­ly, ’til
real­i­ty hits.


I can’t wrap my brain
around how you treat­ed me.
You said you loved me.


The worst parts of you
loom large and almost eclipse
the best parts of you.

And yet, you are you —
love and lies mixed togeth­er,
spin­ning me around.


You’ve tak­en so much
of my life and well-being —
enough is enough.


My only regret
is mak­ing myself small­er
to ease your com­fort.


If love is a choice,
then I chose the wrong per­son —
I should have picked me.


They tell me I’m strong,
but I don’t under­stand it —
I’m bare­ly okay.


I thought lone­li­ness
would be unbear­able, but
it’s bet­ter than you.


In the light of day,
I bare­ly notice you’re gone,
but night is still hard.


The longer you’re gone,
the more com­pe­tent I am.
Fun­ny, isn’t it?


Some­times it scares me
how quick­ly I’m adjust­ing
to life with­out you.

But dis­cov­er­ing
just how strong I am is joy
inde­scrib­able.


I don’t know how love
ought to work, but for now, I’ll
try to love myself.

3 Comments

  1. Anna on March 11, 2016 at 12:35 am

    I am sad because this is dif­fi­cult; break-ups are rarely sim­ple or pain-free. But I am glad that there are many good things and that it sounds like life is gen­er­al­ly improv­ing.

  2. SHolmies on April 23, 2016 at 12:16 pm

    Hi there, I stum­bled across your blog and have a sim­i­lar sto­ry of grow­ing up in con­ser­v­a­tive Chris­tian­i­ty, mar­ry­ing young, and divorc­ing after 6 years of incom­pat­i­ble and often mis­er­able mar­riage, and com­ing out the oth­er side with very lit­tle of my orig­i­nal belief sys­tem intact.
    I know it is raw and heart­break­ing right now but it gets bet­ter. I think your haikus are evi­dence that it is already get­ting bet­ter. You made the right deci­sion, you will sur­vive this, and even­tu­al­ly you will thrive. I am so grate­ful that I final­ly end­ed a failed rela­tion­ship and reclaimed my life as my own.
    One thing that helped me through the ini­tial months was read­ing oth­ers’ sto­ries, I high­ly rec­om­mend ‘Ask Me About My Divorce.’

  3. amyjane on April 26, 2016 at 3:54 pm

    This is awe­some in an excru­ci­at­ing way, and these are beau­ti­ful. Thank you :(.

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