Coming To An End

"No man is worth your sanity." ~ Stacey 2004

For the past five months, I've been trying to convince myself that being with someone, was much better than being alone. And for the past five months, I've been pretty close to being absolutely miserable.

From the start there was a wall that couldn't be broached. Sean's personal issues were like monsters let out of a closet, and always a matter of conversation. I understood, if only from my own experience, how hard it was to move on ahead with your life when everything you thought you knew had come crashing down around you. I tried to be supportive, without always dispensing advice, believing that living through the pain was the only way to learn that you could make it on your own.

I tried to remember how I reacted to the pain, and remembered a hollow shell girl who couldn't sleep at night, let alone breathe. The girl who retired from the world for over a year, until finally one day there was light again, and laughter. He just needs time, I kept telling myself, he hasn't even made it a full year yet, give him some room. Although he would probably say different - though in my world he has ceased having a right to say anthing - he was not one who could handle stress well. During these times he tended to cave in, pushing me away to the outer recesses of his life until he could handle having me around again. Through the months it became a pattern, one really good weekend followed by two that were really bad.

But still I hung on. Not wanting to be a failure at yet another relationship and not wanting to be alone without hope of ever finding love. Still, if I were being honest, I knew months ago that this relationship didn't stand a chance. No relationship can survive only having one person in it and quite frankly, he wasn't there, at least never with me.

He was good at making promises, making plans he never intended to go through with. Maybe he thought this would make me happy, or maybe it was just intended to get me to shut up for a while. I tried to be understanding, giving him the benefit of the doubt that life could really be that stressful and he needed time out to himself. And then I remembered who I was, a single full time working Mom, head of household and dance class transportation, who could always be counted on in a pinch by anyone in need. The kind of person who could always make time for those important to her. And hell, if I could do it and knew it could be done then it only came down to one thing. I wasn't important enough for him to make time.

So why keep me around I thought? What was I to him in his life that he wanted me around, when in truth he didn't want me around at all. Because I was convenient, like a puppet on a string waiting for him to put me in motion? So he could have sex when and if he wanted it? Because I refused to give myself any credit and kept coming back for more? I don't know, and I didn't really get an answer this morning when I was talking to him on the phone, as he was trying to give me his usual "I'm busy" brush off.

Fuck your being busy was all I thought as he listed his to do list for the day, suddenly realizing that I didn't have to beg for his attention, I didn't even want it. Inside I wanted to tell him what an asshole he was, that he was a selfish prig and to borrow a word from Bridget Jone's Diary, an emotional fuckwit. If there is one thing all men out there should learn, it's that you don't mess with the heart of a single mother!

He tried telling me he was going to call me later, and then tried telling me he hadn't read the email I had sent him last night, even though I knew he had read it, as I had requested a return receipt for the message. I couldn't fathom the reason for the lie, just as I knew his propensity for not knowing how to work a phone would be the reason for his not calling later.

I saw myself in my minds eye, wasting a whole Saturday sitting by my phone waiting for his call and my groveling for his affection was done. In that single second, I realized that I had had enough of the games, of the bullshit, of the outright lying and the questionable purple trojan wrapper I had discovered the week previous on his bedroom floor. My faith and trust in this man was already shot, there was no denying the inevitable anymore.

I tried to pull my thoughts together, requesting a moment of his time as he was eager to end the call. I think of you as a friend he said, I don't feel the same way about you as you feel about me. I couldn't say I was shocked to hear this, since I had already suspected as much. (Although his defintion of friend is sorely lacking, as I wouldn't even treat my worst enemy the way he has treated me.)

So I told him enough.

I had had enough, and wasn't signing up for the next ship out to sea to chance the tides. Instead - blog notwithstanding - I went out like a lady, telling him I would miss him, but could see no other choice than to say goodbye.

But as I hung up the phone, it was the damndest thing, I was more happy than sad.