Three Goodbyes
I should have ended it when he called his mother to pick him up after a car accident. At the time I was just relieved I didn’t have to actually do anything but coo sympathetically on the phone. And a part of me was a bit excited that this meant his mother would find out about us (the accident location left no room for doubt that he was returning from an overnight rendezvous). It wasn’t that I really wanted his family to know; I just knew that they usually didn’t know about his romantic life and I like pushing the envelope period in relationships. I wasn’t comfortable in a relationship unless it was uncomfortable. But seriously? His mom? That’s who he called?
I should have ended things in any other way than him finding out via this blog. I was looking at the step forward, with another man, and had my blinders on. I never really considered he’d care that we were over – there were other women in his life, other dates, other opportunities. He didn’t love me, and from those words on I pretty much decided he wouldn’t give a damn what happened between us. But of course that’s crap. I always gushed, and still do, over how well he treated me. I felt cherished despite the other dates, other women. He was exactly what I needed when I needed it. I wish I had let him know in a kinder, gentler, more cherished way, that I no longer needed him.
Why didn’t we leave things the way they were? Why has goodbye been shredded from our lips again and again? Never getting it right, of course. Fire and fury and entitlement fuel us towards each other over and over. I miss my friend very much. I knew after the last that we couldn’t try to repair anything until we were both in more stable romantic situations. Here I am, so fucking happily married that I cannot believe it. Where are you? Can we say hello again, even if it’s just to get the goodbye right for once?