I’ve bounced back and forth on this issue a bit. When things fell apart with the last guy, I felt like I had to hurry up and get over it because he had warned that it was most likely going to be temporary, but I had hoped that he could be swayed because of how he seemed to feel about me.
I had promised him that it wouldn’t bother me if it was temporary, and on some level it didn’t. It was the end of an experience, and thus end of story.
On the other hand, he didn’t respect or understand or even care about how I felt about the situation. He couldn’t see it from my point of view and let me know rather quickly that my point of view was completely irrelevant to his life, or at the least to his decision making process. Because that has been a regular theme in my relationships with men, it became something I fixated on, and thus what could have been a relatively quick ending was dragged out for me emotionally.
We won’t even get into the physical loss that was attached to the whole mess…
When a friend of mine posted something on Facebook that felt a little too close to home, it made me realize a few things: