We had been mis-communicating for months. It was one strained conversation after another and something was always feeling "off" about us. Finally after putting myself through silent torture I decided to speak up because I could not go another day making pretend – the big elephant in the room suffocating me drawing all the breath from my lungs. As usual, we had just been on the phone together and it was yet more stupid banter with no substance. Immediately after putting the phone down, I grabbed it again and texted him (god I hate texting), but I wrote, "What is wrong with us? Why can't we communicate like we used to?" – To my horror he replied, "I don't know. I think my feelings have changed."
It was the answer I KNEW about, but the sword still slashed at my neck, throat, heart and stomach. He severed me. I didn't waste time and dialed his ass right there and had the conversation he was too coward to breach. We spoke about how the few weeks leading up to that moment had been unfulfilling, and how awkward things had been. Despite me trying to speak to him, I don't think I got a whole lot of answers. No - he still cared about me, no - he wasn't seeing anyone else, and yes - he could yell from the mountain tops I am an unbelievable woman. "Do you still want to be with me?" I asked. That's when he did the absolute worst thing he could have done……he hesitated.
GASP! Why would hesitation be worse than the word no? Because it meant he was a coward, it meant he didn't have the balls to say what he meant leaving me to stand in limbo like he been doing for so many weeks. But guess what? It blew up in his face. I've dealt with indecisive men before so I didn't give him the chance to respond, instead my self-preservation blurted out, "No, you don't get to answer. It doesn't matter what you say, you hesitated and I will not be with someone who hesitates. I….deserve….better"
It wasn't immediately about pride, it wasn't about making him feel bad, it was about getting it over with. If I had sat there and kept talking to him we probably could have resolved stuff – probably could have worked through it and tried to continue. But I had had enough. I was done trying and was incredibly upset because I had to be the strong one, the one who broached the subject, the one who had to end it all.
Do I regret saying that? No not at all. Actually it's the one proud moment from that conversation I take away with pride. And to this moment I don't feel wrong for feeling that way. The man I'm going to spend my life with won't hesitate, he knows blue and true he wants to be with me through any storm. The man I want to be with doesn't need to think, its instinct.
In recent days I've had a multitude of vivid dreams about him. Little things still trigger memories of him that ultimately lead to dreaming about him at night. I wind up waking up in the morning still feeling like I belong to someone….someone still loves me, thinks about me and wants to wrap his arms around me. But that's just it; we were in a long distance relationship so those things didn't happen on the regular. It has me believing that I miss the idea of him and not so much him.
To this day I still grapple with some things. I have some unresolved issues and normally I'm very good with introspection, but this one has me confused. It has me wondering why I can't exactly forget about him. He wasn't the end all be all, he wasn't even someone I considered spending the rest of my life with, but on the flip side, he never gave me a reason not to date him, not to be with him. Perhaps its just me being let down AGAIN, not wanting to believe that I let someone in AGAIN and they only hurt me…AGAIN.