The Beginning of a New End

It was a conversation I was expecting to have. It was a conversation I needed to have. It was a conversation that came way too soon. A part of me is resentful for predicting the outcome. The other half is just relieved to have it finally be over. It has to be over. I don’t want to keep regressing; its time to evolve.

The boy and I ended it -- again. But this time there was this feeling of finality, at least on my end. This time, I’m ready to let it go, for good. After three years of riding roller coasters with him, I think I’m finally ready to get off the ride. I don’t enjoy it as much as I used to, and I’m burnt out. I don’t have the energy to keep it up. I’m tired of pushing and working for something that may not be truly there.

We had agreed to take things slow and just let it happen naturally, but I still needed reassurances from him that this wasn’t all just fun and games. I needed to know that he was invested in this. He said he was, but this time I wasn’t.

I was too scared to trust him, so I continued to go out on dates. Except I didn’t really consider them dates, but outings with male friends, which I knew he would consider inappropriate (even if nothing happened). I wasn’t willing to give up that safety net, and I never told him about my “dates.”

Things seemed to be going great with us. I swallowed my instinct to pressure and prod and he was attempting to make more of an effort. I focused on today and stopped thinking too far out in the future. We were floating in a delicate bubble, caught in the currents of the wind and the softest gust could blow it all apart.

The bubble burst last week. A simple sleepover gone badly, with him telling me that’s he’s withdrawing and pushing me away, and perhaps I shouldn’t put up with it. After so many times of us taking one baby step forward and then two gigantic leaps back, I couldn’t go through it again. After leaving his place the next day angry and hurt by his actions, I already knew that we would have a talk and it would be over.

We both agreed that it shouldn’t be this hard to make it work. And I told him that I didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t really want to be with me. He asked if this is what I really wanted, and I said, no its not, but I’m tired of fighting for something that’s not there. He said that he cares for me deeply and that there is something there, but the timing isn’t right. I asked him not to call me for six months to a year, and he said he couldn’t promise me that, but I was adamant. I told him I needed a clean break and calling me three months from now would do neither one of us any good.

And then we hung up, and I cried. I cried for losing him yet again. I cried for the missed opportunity of what might have been. I cried for sticking around for three years hoping that we would get our moment. I cried because I knew that this time, I didn’t really have my heart in it, and kept myself hidden and on guard every time I was with him. I cried because I was scared of him hurting me, so I never let him in. I cried because I couldn't be honest with him. And I cried because I knew I would miss him.

I do think we’re right though. It should be this hard, and we’re both not really ready for this. As much as I want to be ready, I’m not. I’m not ready to be with him, and maybe I never will be. Maybe our history and how we started will always cloud my judgment or maybe we can reach a point in our lives where we can just be.

Is it truly over? I don’t know. Right now it needs to be. I need him out of my life for a while so I can clear my head. I need to be free of him.