Re-creating closure

I've been feeling crazy lonely these days, which is strange because up until recently, I was enjoying my alone-ness and feeling empowered about being happily alone.

The more lonely I've been feeling, the more vulnerable I've felt.  And the more vulnerable I am, the more I've resorted to thinking about Robert.  Which makes me wonder... which came first: the chicken or the egg?

For me, does vulnerability come first and then my thoughts about breakups? Or do I think about breakups first and then feel vulnerable afterwards?

I spent the past few nights crying about Robert.  Why? No reason. No reason, whatsoever.

It all started when my mom brought up Robert in our phone conversation the other day. She casually mentioned that we were actually quite similar and that she is just as perplexed about him as I am. I was shell-shocked because for so many years, she's always said we were ridiculously opposites of one another and it could have never ever worked.

As she talked, I started to get emotional, wondering about all the should haves, would haves, could haves.  I cried and cried when I went to bed that night, feeling haunted by our relationship, and feeling broken-hearted about how we ended.  At the very least, why aren't we friends? At the very least, why couldn't be at least amiable to each other?

For 3 nights in-a-row, I cried and cried about Robert and had imaginary conversations with him about our breakup. I imagined shaking him and asking the Robert I used to know to come back so that I can have just one more conversation with him.  I remember when I saw Robert a few years ago, I couldn't connect with him and starting into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.  It was heartbreaking, as if a different soul possessed his body altogether.

I just need to say goodbye to him.  That's what I need.  Because Robert and I ended so strangely, so abruptly, I think I have no closure from him, no matter how hard I have tried to create it by myself. So I laid in bed the other night telling him goodbye and telling him that he was so meaningful in my life, and  that he continues to play such an important part in my sense of identity and my feelings of self-worth as a person. I cried as though we were just breaking up and I fell asleep surrounded by kleenexes, kleenexes, and more kleenexes.

In the light of day, however, I couldn't understand why I had been so devastated the night before. What happened? What happens to me at night?