The Big Talk

8 Feb

Last week SS and I sat down to rehash the relationship…

Or at least I did. From the look of it, he was there to re-hydrate himself, as he kept escaping to the kitchen to refill his water cup every ten minutes, and to appease my demand that after almost a year (a year today actually) we deserved more than a 9-minute phone conversation. Even he couldn’t rationalize himself out of that one — and he’s a damn good rationalizer.

Whether his effort to talk was sincere to not, he was unable to do it. And with five days past I feel such little emotional connection to the situation that I am going to just go ahead and summarize this in bullet points. Yes B&Gs, I’m bulleting the post-breakup closure talk. Or at least the parts that pissed me off. I think my detached ex would actually appreciate this — well he would appreciate the format, if I wasn’t summarizing his shortcomings that is.

— He tried to turn the break-up around on me. When, in all honesty, I could care less who wants to take the blame. Whether it was his doing or mine, the fact that there was a ridiculously strong lack of communication we are both to blame – even if I was willing and trying. (And if he really meant he only wanted a “break,” then he should have treated it as such and fought for me.)

— He had been trying over the past few months when he was apparently not 100% about us. And if I had asked at any point in our relationship if he was 100%, he would have told me no. All I had to do was ask… I had to ask my boyfriend how he felt about me. Silly me had just relied on his “I love you toos” to mean what they said.

— He is incapable of talking – and those are his words, as well as mine.

It’s the last comment that really threw me in different directions. When we started dating he was affectionate, vocal and forthcoming about his interest in me. (One date 3/ 4 we went skiing/snowboarding and as he hugged be good-bye when I dropped him off he said, “I’m so glad we found each other.” It is was one of the moments that stands out as pivotal in my falling for him.) It wasn’t always in words, but sometimes it came in the form of e-mail, SMS, sweet treats and flowers, once! Through out early discussions (yep, we had discussions), we came to the clear conclusion that we expressed ourselves in very different ways and had to learn to recognize each other’s affections. So I continued writing cards, notes and digging for something deeper. He continued to take me to dinner, on vacations and let me live in his life, such as staying in his apt when he was away, as if it might one day become “ours.”

And that is what I miss; I miss the potential “ours.” I liked our life together, our day-to-day, the defragging over dinners, playing with the cat at night, falling asleep to TV (sometimes; other times it drove me insane). Of course I miss those things, that’s what we were made up of. At some point months ago, the emotional connection we were slowly on our way to developing was halted, and I never got memo, because he couldn’t talk about it.

I had so many things to say, so much anger to let out (I took spin class prior to the talk to avoid unleashing it all on him, smart eh? It backfired; I was running a fever for 24 hours afterwards.) but the second I asked for answers, a look of panic… uneasiness… distress crossed his face. It broke my heart. And being the way I am (I recognize other’s feelings very easily and can’t help but try to put them at ease.), I backed down. How could I get upset with someone for mishandling a relationship that he barely knew he was in, not to mention had no idea how to handle. I can’t claim to know a thing about his past relationships, but being I am the third girl he’s ended things with in about three years time, I can’t help but think I’m not the first to want something from him that he can’t offer.

It was hope that held me there so long. It was the quick drunken affections, the occasional I Love Yous – or “This is why I love you” preludes – that kept me holding on. I know in my heart and soul that the expression is there, just buried so deep that it’s transformed into something unrecognizable. All I needed with a glimpse and a push to unveil it, and I feel like we could have had it all.

He said at one point in the conversation he knew he couldn’t meet my needs. And in his mind, he was right – in my mind he was wrong; he could, he just wouldn’t. I had been holding out for something that is under lock and key. I had been holding out for something someone has no idea how to give.

The hope peaked its head as I sat there in tears, streaming the feelings I had been dealing with over the past months. I caught him staring at me with a sense of compassion; for an instant we had a connection… before he cut away. It made me want to fight harder… But again, I was the only one fighting!

Watching his discomfort made me realize that we were at different levels. While I had always felt he was more mature and established than I am because he owned an apt, is absurdly well traveled and can pay off his CC’s each month, I was ignoring the other aspect of our personalities. The side that I dedicate to learning and progressing mentally and emotionally to not repeat the same mistakes twice; the one where he wants it “to be easy because he thinks so much at work.”

I truly believe that when it’s right, it is easy. But its still work. It is work with the reward of a fulfillment and happiness that no amount of money, extreme adventure or gourmet dinner can compare to.

It is ridiculously hard to put yourself out there. Anyone who has taken the time to get to know me, knows I’ve been down that road and back without a seatbelt on. But if you don’t keep throwing yourself out there, how do you know when you find someone tough enough strong enough for you?

I guess that’s what I am holding out for.

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