Breaking the news

"But aren't you shocked and devastated, mama?" I didn't actually say it aloud, but that's what I was thinking.

My mother had loved Him. During our bi-annual visits, she would rise early before work and stand over a hot stove patiently flipping crepes for two hours because she knew He liked them. At the end of our visit, she would hug and kiss Him as affectionately as she did me, and she would pack Him all sorts of goodies He mentioned liking (usually in passing and mostly out of politeness). And she always asked about Him with genuine affection and care, even when our conversation lasted only a couple of minutes ("Okay, we'll talk later. Just tell me, are you good? Is He good?")

Why, then, was she not totally shocked and utterly devastated when I told her that her future son-in-law and I had decided to end our relationship? And why weren't my friends, when I told them? Don't get my wrong, they were all incredibly supportive, offering up wise words of advice (and, thankfully, steering clear of cliches), and often just listening to me cry (one admitting, a few days later, that she couldn't make out anything that I said between my gasps for air during our hour-long long-distance conversation).

That was all wonderful and helpful, but I wanted them to feel as though the world had turned on its head, and I wanted them to question whether love truly exists. Instead, we talked about my breakup (at length), then moved on to other topics of conversation.

So now I'm left trying to find comfort in the idea that breakups--as all-consuming and totally disorienting as they are to the two people whose relationship ended--happen so often that they really aren't all that shocking.

But for now I want to see at least one jaw drop.