Yep. We broke up. We are two individuals. No longer a couple. No longer a team.
We came to a realization. We were both miserable. Loving each other. Enjoying most of our time spent together. And, waiting for the chaos to unfold.
It needed to end. We need space. We need an opportunity to go our separate ways. If we are led back to each other, great. If not, it was an interesting run. Either way, if we stop this now, we can still be civil. We can even be friendly, and we can eventually be friends.
If we stop it now.
If we continue going this way, we will hate each other. There will be no going back. It will be too far broken.
That would be a loss.
Too often people stay too long. They beat the hell out of that dead horse. They hold on to a relationship for an outside reason. Finances. Property. Comfort. Kids. They make each other miserable because they don’t have guts enough, or resources, to let each other go.
We freed one another, and it feels good to be free.
Update: I held on to this post for days. Felt too real to admit I’d failed at another relationship. But then the realness hit. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t going to be happy. The relationship was over. We weren’t compatible. I was done.
What I know:
I’ll never date another man without kids. He can’t understand parenthood and sacrifice the same way.
I’ll never lose my voice again. If I’m not being heard, then I’m talking to the wrong person.
I won’t give more than I’m getting expecting him to catch up.
I won’t allow myself to follow blindly.
I won’t allow myself to be talked down to.
I only want two things. I want someone to believe in me, and I want someone to fight for me. That’s it. It’s that simple.
My last two relationships blew up in my face. They were both men that promised me something they couldn’t commit to. I was hurt. I tried so hard, and I remained their friends. I’m supportive. I cheer for them. I want the best for them. I know it will never progress.
I fought for them. I loved them. I sacrificed for them. I would bend nearly in half. I was in. Both times. And, it didn’t work. They couldn’t, or wouldn’t, come through for me consistently. They were both so broken, and I was ill equipped to fix them.
And, I gave up. After minutes, months, and years of doing my part, I gave up. Do you know how hard it is to walk away from someone who tells you they love you? It’s devestating. Because if you’d said that you didn’t love me it would all make sense.
I tried. I know I tried.
So, it may be over. Should be. I don’t know if I should jump up and down or cry in the corner. It’s just too blah. Too basic. Too underwhelming. Too tired.
Nothing got better. Nothing improved. I always felt disregarded and disrespected. I never got to be a priority. I never felt desired…not while my clothes were on at least.
I heard “love,” and I held on to that with both hands.
But, he never asked me how I was doing, what I needed, or what I wanted. I never felt like he was in my corner, cheering from the sidelines, or was my soft spot to fall. He didn’t come through when claimed he would. He never apologized when he fell short.
I tried. Still trying. Wanted it to work. But, he ain’t there, ain’t ready, and ain’t going for it. That’s unfortunate, because I put my guard down for him.