By “it” and “that kind of thing,” I mean a loving, healthy, non-emotionally distant relationship with someone he’s known for a decade and he’s had as a girlfriend for over a third of his life. I know he doesn’t expect me to just roll over and say “Oh okay, I’ll wait for you to maybe someday perhaps change your boredom with me so that you can treat me like I’m your girlfriend and I matter to you.” I hope he doesn’t think that little of me.
I hate the notion that it’s the woman’s job to keep her man entertained.
My truth is that I will never find anybody as good, and I shouldn’t even bother. He is a great person, but as far as relationships go, this one isn’t healthy or sustainable anymore.And if I don’t want to be alone forever, I’m going to have to face the scary world and put myself out there at some point.It felt like the thing between us was at its end and all we were waiting for was for someone to pronounce it dead.But I stiffened my upper lip and placed my hands on the steering wheel, telling myself that I would be damned if I didn’t crack that chest open and massage the heart back to life with my own bare hands.I’m also going to have to accept the thought of him with someone else: sitting in her car singing his favorite songs, eating with her at restaurants where we used to eat, holding her and kissing her and loving her. And the truth is I’m never going to love like this again. So I buy a breakfast sandwich at the crack of dawn and embark on a six hour journey to get my heart broken in person.
Him treating her better than he ever treated me because she’ll be shiny and new to him. Fear of both of us dating other people shouldn’t be the reason I stay in an unhappy relationship. I might love in a different way, in a better way, but I will never have a first love again. And it feels like it took half my body along with it. There’s the kind of breakup that happens in terrible dramatic bursts, plates smashed, names called, horrible things said. But then there’s the kind of breakup where one person strips their skin and lays their soul out on the floor, and the other quietly steps all over it and doesn’t even notice.“I love you,” he says, monotone, while I stare at him with my arms crossed. I let him know he’s been emotionally unavailable and distant for months now. I tell him the simple things I want, extremely simple easy things he can’t find it in himself to do: to text me at least just a couple times a week to check in and catch up, to help me plan occasional trips up north (not more than once an academic quarter) so we can see each other more than just for 5 days every 60 days, to tell me he’s thinking of me and he misses me and he misses my brain and my body and some bullshit about my eyes sparkling. It stings to know he puts more effort into his run of the mill friendships than he does into a relationship with me, and it hurts even worse that he’ll readily admit to that but do nothing to fix it.I stare at the rows and rows of cars on the highway, all of us moving at a snail’s pace. Slowly, achingly slowly, moving onward, my insides hollow and throbbing with hurt, biting back tears, onto a new life. But now I know that its death is giving life to something different, something better. It’s pervasive in our society: “Oh, he cheated on her because she wouldn’t give him oral anymore and the new girl would.” “He left after the love died when they had 3 kids and he couldn’t be bothered to help her with parental duties so she had to take on the responsibility of all 3 kids and then he got offended that she stopped having sex with him because she was so drained at the end of the day.” “She got old so he left.”That being said, I have done nothing to warrant boredom.I have my flaws and my issues, but at the end of the day I’m fully aware that I’m an interesting, accomplished, witty and bright woman who is a solid 7/10 in most light (8/10 in candlelit and 6/10 in fluorescent).Meanwhile I haven’t felt like I’m somebody’s girlfriend in months, even years. The last time I felt loved and appreciated by him was… I ask if there’s a reason he’s so distant with me: is he mad at me? He tells me there’s no one else, he’s not mad, he’s just really comfortable and doesn’t know if he’ll ever change. I feel dull shock at how forward he’s being about his resignation toward the relationship, but I’m not surprised by his honesty.