Toothaches and Heartaches
By: Natalie Nichole Butcher
I wrote this piece shortly after my break up this year. With the upcoming release of "Modern Love" on Amazon Prime, to which I'm anxiously awaiting, I figured I'd share a piece with you I submitted for the column it's based on. I submitted this essay to the Modern Love column proudly and almost in an act of passing on my pain. Sadly, it was not chosen but that doesn't mean I can't share it with you. I hope you enjoy.
Recently, I had my wisdom teeth extracted. The anxiety was boiling under the surface anticipating the pain I would endure however, enduring everyone's awful stories of their own experiences was also quite painful. I made the arrangements two weeks prior to the procedure. Two weeks prior, I was in a relationship with someone navigating our future towards careers and living arrangements and all that adult relationships entail after approaching a 3-year mark. Marriage was a discussion we had on and off throughout our relationship and I took comfort in the security of knowing I had someone to depend on. It was agreed that my partner would pick me up from the dentist and would care for me while I recovered at home. The surgery date came and went, and I was no longer in that relationship and it felt like everything had shifted, teeth included. My loving parents drove up from 3 hours away, the morning of to drive me to the procedure and care for me after. I was nervous, but I'd argue my dad was far more nervous than I was. He insisted on meeting the surgeon and as they asked when my last menstrual cycle occurred, he quickly excused himself. While the surgeon's assistant put in the IV, I imagined I was on a terrible first date the kind where you're really reaching for commonality. "What do you do?" he asked, "And what do you do for fun?", "Oh, I love movies too". God, help me I thought. Then I slowly drifted to sleep. I woke up to an array of colors and Brain Damage from the Dark Side of the Moon album playing in the background. Pink came in and turned into orange, which then turned into yellow, like a kaleidoscope dream. I must have been tripping, but it felt so real. I recall thinking, this was an excellent way to really mess with a patient who is under the influence. Then someone's voice started to creep through the blasting music asking me if I was in pain and if I was okay. I couldn't answer because someone's hands were in my mouth stuffing it with gauze, so instead, I grunted. The next thing I remember was my father helping me into the car and my head feeling like a ton of bricks that my neck couldn't possibly support. We got home, and my father helped me into the elevator as I struggled to walk a straight line to my apartment. I thought to myself, this is what unconditional love is. I felt it so deeply, it immediately made me want to cry. My mom laid me in bed as I grew more and more uncomfortable with the gauze in my mouth. I felt like gagging, she asked me to be patient and to wait 30 minutes before I could take it out per doctor's instructions. About 30 minutes on the dot, we went to the bathroom to take it out. I pulled the blood-soaked gauze from my mouth as my mom looked on in discomfort, and then I broke down crying. I imagine, my mom thought I was being a tad dramatic and told me to sit down and not to get too upset. I wasn't crying because of the blood, I was crying because in that moment I felt so alone and like a failure. My relationship had dissolved into nothing, and it was killing me. I was sitting in my bathroom, in my apartment without the person I thought, I would spend the rest of my life with and instead I was crying with some blood-soaked gauze in my hands and my concerned mother looking on. I rinsed my mouth out and the blood became less and less apparent. I thought, eventually this is what will happen with my heartache. In this moment, it feels like a rush of blood gushing out of me with no end in sight. Scary and jarring and leaving a bad taste in my mouth. However, it does end, and things go on as they should.
When I told people about getting my wisdom teeth extracted, I heard all kinds of stories and advice. It felt as if the person wanted to "out do"the last story and shock me with their experience. Heartache also seems to elicit a similar response. Suddenly, everyone begins to share their stories of heartache and trials in relationships and marriages. You begin to realize that even the strongest bonds, are not exempt from their troubles. It also seems to bring out the best in people. My parents are the most selfless, loving people and dropped everything to help me; reminding me that time heals all wounds. My girlfriends immediately leaped to my side, offering comfort and sharing their times of heartache. They would tell me to take my time and to not feel bad for feeling so sad. It reminded me that I have so many people in my life that are so caring and truly love me. Why does it take hard times to remind us of that? For the next few days, I continued with my daily life, went back to work, visited with friends. Ate nothing but Jell-O and Sopita. All I could think of was solid food, literally dreaming of it. How amazing chips and queso sounded, gorging myself with spicy beef and zesty jalapenos dripping with golden cheese sauce. The taste of a juicy cheeseburger and fries with an ice cold coke. I yearned for solid food, yet I could not eat it. It would bring more pain, if I ate it, it would delay my healing, if not make it worse and even longer. Simultaneously, I wanted my emotional pain to end as well. I wanted to turn to him, or even someone else just to fill the void I felt. Yet, if I did it would only make the pain more unbearable and delay my healing further. So instead, I slowly moved to smoothies, then yogurt, then a grilled cheese. I'm still not eating chips and queso nor have I had a juicy cheeseburger, but I know it's within reach. I haven't been as strict with my emotional health to be truthful. I immediately turned to dating apps, thinking that stranger's compliments would make me feel less empty. The high of a simple compliment to your looks fade faster than the high of my Tylenol with codeine, and that's just a fact. I even went on a few dates with some nice people. Some nicer than others. All of those dates asked, "When was your last relationship?" Was my heartache written all over my face, I thought? I would uncomfortably decline to answer and when I felt brave enough to answer it seemed to get the response that it probably warranted. After the dates, I would come home to that empty apartment and felt just as empty inside. I honestly took for granted to the feeling of knowing someone was just a call away, knowing that someone was there. That security is like a bed to fall into after an awful day. My friends' joke that losing my wisdom teeth, meant losing my wisdom and I'm starting to think maybe they are not wrong. In my right mind, I knew that I was not ready to date yet I immediately went out there facing the harsh reality that dating today is the equivalent of shopping today. You search for the "perfect item" and the moment you find a flaw you begin searching again for something better. Someone in my current condition is too fragile for modern dating. I was exhausted from parading all my hobbies, when I wanted to say, I work all day and come home and watch my favorite Bravo shows. Those are my hobbies. How's that for relatable? In moments of calm, I'd run my tongue against my teeth and it felt different. I felt like teeth were missing and maybe even chipped. In the same heartbeats, I'd realize I had no one texting me to see how my day went or to ask me how my big meeting turned out. It is all raw right now, the reality setting in that this is how things are at this time. Trying to comfort myself, convincing myself that they will not always be this way. The truth is that all I'm looking forward to is the day I can brush my teeth without thinking about it. When I can open my mouth wide enough to let a laugh escape, and it is genuine and full of promise. I can't wait for the day I can wake up without that pit in my stomach and not have to think about it. When a week can pass me by and I don't feel like crying anymore and I can face the harsh dating world with the strength to know that I am worthy of receiving the love I deserve. I know these feelings are there within reach. In the meantime, I will wait.
P.S. everyone should read the column if you're not familiar. They are reader submitted essays about love, heartbreak and the hilarious and devastating in-betweens.
