There comes a moment in a relationship when one elects to overlook the things that would otherwise not be overlooked. You come to accept her annoying habit of starting a sentence then stopping halfway through, the nervous picking at her toenails, even the short temper and moodiness. It’s different for everyone and I’m guilty of my own quirks that get overlooked when that point is reached.
But if we’re not careful the things we overlook start piling up. Some are things that can be safely ignored, others should be addressed or at least acknowledged. If it goes on too long it just gets uncomfortable for both and neither is willing to address or acknowledge it.
Then comes that day when it’s over. You’ve been shown the door, or you’ve shown her the door, someone walks out the door and doesn’t look back. The both of you spend the next several months maybe texting or calling, maybe some Facebooking or half-hearted attempts at staying cordial. Or maybe the opposite, bringing out all the resentments and attacking each other with verbal razor blades. That’s when all those little things start to come out, to appear as red flags and oh isn’t hindsight so perfectly clear-visioned! Maddening, isn’t it? How did I stay with this person so long? How in the world did I ever convince myself, or let her convince me, that this was love?
Then, eventually, a certain moment comes when you realize that all you have let is the resentments and those little niggly things that you now miss but, really, don’t miss at all.
That’s the moment you can let go, let it all fall on the floor in a misshapen heap of discarded memories and cares and walk away because truly there is nothing left to hold on to; it’s already fallen through your fingers as the fires of anger and resentment burned it all away. Maybe a few mental pictures here and there of a smile or a certain look, but they’re charred around the edges.
And, if you’re really, really lucky it’s right about that time she will text you out of the blue trying to pick a fight, once again, to soothe her own ego. And… you just don’t bother anymore. In my own case it was because a friend of hers had seen me with a woman at a club the night before. Jealousy? Doubt? Guilt? In the immortal words of Rhett Butler, “Frankly my dear, I just don’t give a damn.” For six years it was always all about you and your drama; whatever problems or issues I had were annoyances to be dealt with quickly, if at all, and dismissed.
It’s all about the moments. Some of them are about overlooking, some take your breath away, some suck the life out of you and then the one that makes it clear there will be no more moments of significance.
I’m over you, I’m done, I’m through. Lose my number, delete my email address, forget where I live. I gained a wonderful son out of it all while you lost your honor, integrity, credibility, your son… and me.
I regret the day I responded to your message on Yahoo Personals and even more that I didn’t listen to my intuition that made me dump you after only two months, only to go back a month or so later. You know why? I settled for what I could get. It wasn’t that you were so pretty or so sexy, you’re just so-so really, but that I was tired of the singles game and you were throwing yourself at me. But for whatever reason I cheated myself and settled for the first piece of ass that would smile at me. Bad on me.
I’ll leave the rusty, dented knight’s armor at your door. Maybe you can find another fool to wear it for you and dance to your crazy tune of low self-esteem, narcissism, masochism and lies.