And in the afternoon

He asked me not to run from him anymore. He asked me to talk things over, said we could work it out. Said he wanted me to stay. He was supposed to help me stay.

Until this afternoon when he ended it.  He said I wanted more than he had to offer. And in the end, that’s probably true.

And so a year and a half almost to the day from when we met, we are over. I didn’t see that coming in the light of this morning. Didn’t see it coming at all.

It does not bother me to say, “This isn’t love…”
Cause if you don’t want to talk about it
Then, it isn’t love
And I guess I’m gonna have to live with that
But I’m sure there’s something in a shade of gray
Or something in between,
And I can always change my name, if that’s what you mean

- “Anna Begins” by Counting Crows

Unexpected

Honestly, I thought I’ve been doing pretty well since LC and I broke up. Other areas of my life are moving forward at warp speed and I’ve been content. Perhaps even happy. LC and I even managed to keep talking and being friends. We even hung out once! I am a break up model of perfection. Or so I thought.

Internally I felt like I had a handle on it too. I am comfortable with breaking up with him. When I think over what happened, I know that I made the right choice for me. Any other choice would not have served me as well. This may sound like a load of BS, but I mean it. I’m at peace with my decision.

So no one was more surprised than me when I started yelling at him in IMs a few days ago. Ooops. Apparently even though I’m at peace with my decision, I’m not at peace with him. It would seem there are some loose ends that left me kind of angry. Which I realized at the exact moment that I told him so.

LC had no idea I had ever been angry about any of the things I mentioned. Which in turn made me madder because they are all things I’ve said before.  Go ahead and snicker. You can already see how the whole thing escalated.

This, my friends, is why I like to practice DTM. With DTM I can have imaginary arguments with him in my head. With DTM I can write angry letters I never send. And with DTM I don’t have to look him in the eye, make nice, and get even angrier because he doesn’t know and doesn’t care about what hurt me. DTM gives me the space to work it out without getting any angrier.

And so it is that LC and I have stopped communicating. Is it a permanent ban on our friendship? I don’t know. But apparently it’s going to last until I’m good and done with it. Because the other way really just wasn’t working out so well.

At least I got my stuff out of his apartment before this happened.

What fairytales don’t tell you

I feel like I have to complete a thought. A little while ago I posted about happily ever afters and what they can and should mean to all of us single folk. It was a post full of thoughts for a personal revolution. But, much like anything in life, there are two sides to every story. So today I’d like to post about the flip side of redesigning my own personal happily ever after.

It wasn’t until after my second divorce that my vision of the future changed. Up until then I still assumed there was someone out there for me and I too could ride off into the sunset with him. But when things fall apart so hard, you need something to hold onto. And so I began to think of ways to make a satisfying ending to my story alone.

That’s a positive thing. Taking control of one’s own destiny and happiness. Spitting on fate and making a life you can believe in. Taking control. It’s empowering and good and I stand behind it.

But it’s also tiring. Because for each new dream I have to make and build, an old one is buried underneath it. Each time I make the effort to revise my vision of the future, I first have to dig a grave for the old thoughts of what might be.

Many of you will find this hard to imagine, but I had those dreams of a future with someone else again. I spent my nights imagining the life we’d have and the things we’d do. I tried to picture if we’d have children or not, and if we did what they’d look like and what we’d name them. I mulled over tentative vacation plans. I even considered what kind of engagement ring I’d like if I were to get one again.

And now I have to dig a grave for that life that was becoming so clear in my mind (even though I couldn’t decide between princess cut or marquise). I have to find a way to let it go.

I’m not even angry about that crazy Facebook bitch anymore. I do forgive what happened. I don’t hate LC and I’m not angry at him. But everything that happened just seems to be too much. LC blames himself for letting that happen. He says he’s better than that and I believe him about that. But I also know it wasn’t his fault. I know I put too much stress on our relationship for it to ever be anything but broken. By straddling the line for so long, I am the one who cracked this dream. What he did wasn’t good by any means. And yes, he should have told me what was happening. But that never would have come to be if I had done the right thing in the first place. What happened and this ending are ultimately my fault. And I will have to find a way to live with that.

LC says he can’t imagine me living a life alone. He has lots to say about how intelligent and beautiful and successful I am. How people like me don’t have solitary endings. Even now he says I deserve better than this. That I deserve to be happy.

And maybe I do deserve to be happy. Maybe someday I will be. But I’m afraid that journey is going to have to be on my own. So I will box up the pretty dreams of blonde babies and European vacations. I will add the sounds of the river and pretty diamond rings. I will lay in fun getaways and sun lit strolls by the lake. I will wrap it in the security of having someone hold me every night and tell me how loved I am. It will all be in good company. And I will seal it with the knowledge that I did this thing and made it what it now is.  Then I will close that box and bury it deep, hopefully where I can’t pry it open again. Hopefully under the foundations of something new someday.

One of my favorite lines from a song is in Semisonic’s Closing Time: “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” And this is what we don’t often tell people about making new dreams. In order to make way for something new, you have to let go of something else. And sometimes, the beginning you let go of takes a piece of you with it.

Before I shut that dream box, I will add a piece of my heart to it. Another piece that no one else may ever have. It belongs to the river, and the sun, and the vacations, and the babies, and the rings, and that love. It belongs to LC.

Big Changes – Part 1

LC and I have been heading towards this for a while. And honestly, I’m not even sure that one of us was more anxious for it than the other. Maybe one of us was more vocal, but then someone has to be to get it started. However, in the end, it was a mutual kind of decision.

LC and I decided we are really just friends.

At the end of the day, I wasn’t meeting his needs. He felt I was distant and not letting him into my life. I felt like I could never meet his needs but would always be reminded of that. Neither one of us was actually happy but yet we kept trying.

We kept trying because we care about each other. We kept trying because we wished it could work. We kept trying because maybe we could make a go of it. But in the end, no amount of trying could make it something it wasn’t. And eventually we both got tired until one of us simply said “I think I quit.”

After it was out there, we both knew we were on the same page. It was a relief to have it in the open. It was a weight off of both of our shoulders. We were free to be honest again.

LC and I have decided to keep the best parts of what we were to each other. That includes all of the fun, probably some dinners out, and a great friendship. We will just split the check at dinner from now on and always wear pants. And life will go on.

I am genuinely relieved to have it all out in the open. In the end, I will miss the other things he was. I will miss all of the truly great dinners out. I will miss the physical affection. I will miss always having someone to go experience things with. I will miss romance. I will miss being half of a whole. But while I am wistful, I know that it was definitely for the best. And I am grateful to have kept my friend.

How do you know?

Every day we are presented with choices. For better or worse, we constantly make decisions about our lives. Which outfit to wear, which way to turn, which brand to buy, and who to date. I always imagine that with each decision we make some doors close and others hopefully open. But how do we know if we’re opening the right doors? How do we know if we’re making the right choices?

Last night I did something you probably won’t understand. I broke up with LC.

I’ve been back and forth about it for weeks now. He is an amazing guy. I’ve never dated someone who was so universally good to me. He always wanted to be with me and was crystal clear about it. No mixed messages. He took care of me when I needed it. Not because he felt like he had to but because he wanted to be there. He did little things to let me know he cared. He did big things too. He is the kind of boyfriend you brag about to your friends. And your friends are a mixture of thrilled for you and jealous all at once. He is nothing short of amazing.

So why did I break up with him? Because in some areas our compatibility just wasn’t there. And most of them were behind closed bedroom doors. I am not pointing fingers or blaming anyone. I’m saying the problem lies not with one of us or the other, but the combination of the two. Yes I had my issues with that situation, but so did he. We were both struggling. And we tried to work on it feebly but neither one of us knew how to resolve it.

The more I thought about it, the more I thought LC had staying power and long term potential. And then I realized the gravity of the incompatibility issue. Was I willing to be dissatisfied in that area for the long term? What if the long term was until death do us part? Could I live with bedroom compatibility issues for my happily ever after? How happily could that ever after be if that was the case?

In the end, I realized that both of us deserve nothing less than the entire package. That we are both great people who deserve to be happy… in all ways. And that staying together, despite all that was good and right with us, was doing the both of us a disservice. And so I spoke up.

It was horrible. The thing is, we both care for each other very much. Making the decision to break up does not change that fact. I still had lingering dreams of what my life would be like with LC. And I believe he feels the same way about me. It is mutual, much like everything else. So ending it, even knowing why, felt artificial and wrong. Because in order to get what we both deserve in all aspects of our lives, we had to give up something that was great in most of them. This kind of breakup feels like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Especially when throughout the entire conversation it is evident that neither of us wants it to happen.

So it is that I sit here with a heavy heart. I still doubt what I did, even though I vividly remember why I did it. I still wonder if this decision was the right one. If this path will lead to happiness. If the door to my happily ever after just opened wide somewhere. And I wish there were some way to know that walking away from LC will eventually lead me to the happy ending I deserve. Because if I could see that it didn’t, I’d turn around right now and get him back.

I miss him already.

This is going to be short because I don’t have it in me to write more right now. In a moment you’ll see why.

I ended it with my Mr. Big today. I know I should have done it sooner. And please no lectures about LC. Letting go of Big was the hardest thing I’ve done since my divorce. But today I did it.

Why? Because he has New Year’s Eve plans and never even thought to include me. Because I’m not allowed to meet his friends. Because I don’t know where he lives. Because he is too afraid of being hurt to take a chance.

That last one… it hits kind of close to home. It reminds me of me and LC. By holding on to Big I’ve been keeping LC at arm’s length too. And he has been nothing but wonderful to me. So maybe, just maybe it’s time to take a chance.

And to take a chance with LC, to take a chance at having what I truly deserve with another person… I had to walk away from something that would never live up to that. I had to walk away from Big.

And so I did. And I made him a Big Zombie. And if you’ll pardon me, I have to go mourn that for just a little bit.

Breaking up is hard to do

Back in August, I did a guest post for Ms. Single Mama all about my philosophy of breaking up. Recently a good friend reminded me of this as it became pertinent in my life for a fleeting moment (not with LC, just relax everyone) and I was reminded that I never posted this here for you. So, without further ado, I offer you my very own sage advice on how best to survive a break up.

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Unfortunately when it comes to breaking up, there is no magic bullet. No one sure fire way to erase the pain and move on. No path to avoid longing, or pain, or heart break. And no way to erase memories. It’s going to hurt. And anyone who tells you otherwise is a filthy liar. The only thing you can do is to develop a way to survive through the time it will take for your heart to mend again. And that’s what I’ve been invited here to talk about with you today. Because, of course, I have an opinion on this.

My breakup philosophy is pure and simple like the freshly fallen snow, and is called Dead To Me (DTM). DTM is a straightforward philosophy both simple in name and premise. Practice is deceptively difficult. In short, you new ex is now dead to you. No longer exists. *poof*

First you must explain DTM to all of your friends. Surely they have all been there, all love you, and all believe that ex was never good enough for you anyway. They will help to distract you, keep from talking endlessly about him, and definitely keep you from contacting him.

Regarding contact, here is the thing: Your ex is dead (to you). We do not call the dead on the telephone. We do not send the dead emails. We do not text the dead when we are drunk. The dead are beyond these means of communication. So when fully practicing DTM, all of these are automatically prohibited. As part of the DTM philosophy all of those means of contact must be erased. (Ladies seriously, in your cell phones? This includes saved voicemails, your contact list, text message history, and your recent and missed calls. I know all your tricks. Stop holding on over there.) Please also add any other means of online, telephone, cell phone, or other communication you can think of. Simple so far, right?

Unfortunately, sometimes the dead refuse to stay that way. These zombies of exes will pop up. They will want to just say hi, or be friends, or possibly have a booty call. Now listen carefully… have you ever seen those old horror flicks? The black and white ones, with the zombies? Seriously, would you go to bed with that? Hell no! Those are to be attacked with axes or burning stakes or something. Not welcomed back into your cell phone, or your MySpace, or your bed. Zombie sex…. just ick. Plus I’m sure that kissing a zombie results in you becoming undead yourself. And really, who wants that? Remember, if your pesky ex reappears, he is a zombie and is to be ignored.

On a more serious note, the last step is unfortunately the hardest. Even if you manage to stop contacting him and even if you manage not to let him wheedle his way back in, the part that no one can really help you with is making your heart forget. The purpose of DTM is to give you the room to let go. It is easy to imagine maybe things weren’t that bad and to get caught up in missing him. But for the most part, whatever did you in the first time will do you in again. That is usually the way way of things. So it is best to hold on to DTM instead of holding on to him. Hold on to your friends, not your zombie. I will not lie… it won’t be easy. But eventually, you will heal.

Letter to Someone

I still think of you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Sometimes it sneaks up on me in the night, sometimes in the unexpected bright light of day. It shouldn’t matter anymore, you know. You don’t belong here now. And yet sometimes, there you still are.

Sometimes I let myself daydream about what might have happened. If everything were different, if it had worked out. If we were a we instead of just you and me. But you and me, we’re not those things. We are nothing instead. Sometimes that still makes me sad.

I thought about visiting you. About popping up in your life. About seeing what might happen if we saw each other again. I considered it. I still know how to find you, you know. But I won’t. I understand now. I understand that it was never going to be. I understand that there was nothing I could have said or done. I understand that that ending, that thing I never comprehended… it was always going to be. You told me it wasn’t, but I know you weren’t honest. I bet you know it too. But I’ll never ask.

I wonder if you still think of me too. But these days I am sure you don’t. The time that has passed tells me that. There are no thoughts left for me. There never were. Each increment of time whispers it to my subconscious. You never really wanted me. The hard truth. And yet, there it is… the lesson time has taught. You never really wanted me.

Otherwise, things would be different. But they are not.

-Jane

Note – This letter could be to any number of people. I will admit it was inspired in my mind this morning by one, but is not meant as direct communication to anyone.

It’s Over

It is time for a confession.

I have an incredible soft spot for anyone who can sing. Looks are secondary, personality is even somewhat secondary. Just….. sing to me.

Having said that, you will still surely judge me for this next confession. Still, I can’t help myself. It’s true. And since you don’t actually know who I am, I feel safe telling you this.

Once upon a time, in a far away place….. Clay Aiken was my secret boyfriend. So secret in fact, that he was unaware of the situation. We were happy for a time you see. Until tonight.

Dude is in Spamalot. And he’s BLONDE. Our relationship had its ups and downs, and we’d been struggling lately since he’d been so quiet. But after this revelation, I had to break up with him. I’m sorry to say, he may never recover.

In fact, I predict he will turn to men now, as I have clearly ruined him for all other women. That is all.

So we hope

You what what the worst thing is? When you know something in advance, see it coming, and still let it happen. When you stare a situation in the eye and know it will end badly, but you still don’t get out. When you make the stupid mistake anyway. And why did you do it? Hope. Hope is the most damning emotion and a One Date Wonder’s worst enemy every time.

I met a good guy. One who wanted a long term relationship. One who spent the night. One who was very very different from me and what I usually look for. So I hoped. I hoped that opposites could complement each other. That I’d at least have the chance to find out. That dating is not always a laundry list of desirable qualities but more individuals meeting and meshing. I hoped that this good guy who spent the night might be something to hold onto.

Every good One Date Wonder knows that hope like that only leads to sadness. And so it was. First there was a fight that probably neither one of us could explain. He asked a question, I gave an answer that hit him wrong, suddenly he was grabbing his shoes and heading for the door. He yelled, I retreated. He shut the door behind him. I locked it, sat down, and cried. Not because I was so head over heels for him. Not because my heart was broken. Not because he was the love of my life. But because he was the first time I’d dared to hope in quite some time. And all it turned out to be was a reminder of why hope is the enemy.

The zombie guy is gone. He called tonight. He didn’t want me to feel bad. He didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but he was trying to do it. We are two very different people. He doesn’t know how that will work out in the long run. The truth is, he’s right. I know he’s right. I knew it before the first date. But he was funny, and charming, and sweet. So I set it aside and hoped. And today I remember why that is the wrong thing to do. But what is the alternative?

So we hope. We hope that there is something out there. We hope with each date that we may have found what we are looking for. We hope because if we give up hope, there is nothing left. No dates, no happily ever after, none of it. So we hope.