I’m not a smart girl. Not at all. I’m quite stupid actually. I know, I know, this is where you all go, “No La you’re quite smart and talented and…” somewhere after that I start to tune you out. But let me make it simple for you.
No no no no no. Stop talking over me. Stop trying to reassure me. STOP.
Okay maybe it would be better if I were to explain the depths of my profound stupidity.
“Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.”
Okay, that’s a little more like what I’ve been doing. So maybe I’m not stupid in as much as I am COMPLETELY, TOTALLY, AND UTTERLY FUCKING OUTSIDE OF MY MIND. (That felt good.)
Oh wait- I recognize that I’m dancing completely around the issue but #1 I like to dance and #2 I’m stalling so that I don’t actually have to write this down or say it out loud.
He broke up with me.
Like I knew I would be.
If the rest of the post comes to you in high definition bitterness. Don’t say you weren’t forewarned.
The phone rings yesterday and it’s a number I don’t recognize. I pretty much figure its the (ex) boyfriend and debate about whether or not I should answer it because the last time we talked he was competing in some sort of asshole contest. I, of course, pick it up and somewhere along minute 3 or so of the conversation he tells me something along the lines of “I need to talk to you.” Which, in case you didn’t know, is far worse than the dreaded “We need to talk” because it is more like an information session notifying you of things that are to come that are gonna break your heart, notsomuch a discussion of some sort of issue. So in my mind, I grab that oh shit bar you find on the roof of your car and hold on for the ride.
HIM: I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…
ME: That’s never good.
HIM: And I think we need to decide where this relationship is gonna go from here if it goes anywhere at all.
Um… err? Grrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.
I hate this conversation by the way. I hate it the way most men hate it. This is the worst and yet most necessary thing to do to a person. I digress…
Long story short, he decided that he’s ready to get married and have kids like yesterday and I would prefer to wait because of my career. So, we want the same things but on a different timeline. I was willing to compromise on the marriage thing because I would really like to be married to this man but kids are slightly different, seeing as how I’d be the one carrying them, giving birth, nursing them, raising them alone next time he gets deployed or if God forbid something were to happen to him. See my issue?
Anyway, as one might expect the conversation went swiftly downhill from there with him getting more confused and I fighting a valiant battle with refusing to cry. (I won by the way. I’ve yet to shed a tear and I refuse to.) So somewhere towards the end of the conversation he says, “You’re not taking this like I’m breaking up with you are you?”
How the hell else am I supposed to take it exactly? You start the conversation by telling me we need to decide where our relationship is going but everything that follows is more like, “Hey, I’m letting you know that this isn’t gonna work and here’s why.” You tell me that there’s basically no future in us and that you’re not willing to wait or compromise the things you want. In essence, that I can’t be that person to make you happy and give you the things you feel you need. How, again, is this not a breakup speech? “Hi you’re completely and totally incapable of giving me what I want and need because of your career choices but I love you so I’m gonna stay with you anyway.”
Uh huh. Not a break up.
So what does any of this have to do with me being insane? Because I KNEW this was gonna happen and I prolonged it, praying, hoping, wishing on stars and all that dumb shit that maybe, just maybe, if we wanted it bad enough, if we worked at it hard enough, that things could work out.
Cue violins…. here.
See where this kind of thinking got me? I KNOW better. I know that love conquers all bullshit doesn’t work. I’VE DONE THIS BEFORE. Why again?
I am guilty by reason of insanity.
So no more of this. I’m tired, I really am. I’m tired of fairy tales and wishing on stars, love letters and late night phone calls. I just don’t want to do it anymore. I can’t do it anymore. It’s just really not worth it.
A long time ago, I resolved within myself that I wouldn’t be able to maintain and nurture a serious long-term relationship with anyone because I knew how demanding my career would be. And I was ok with that. Somewhere along the line, I got away from that resolution and deluded myself into thinking that love could be some kind of tangible force in my life even though it had never really been before.
So tired of loving things that always leave.