When I first intended to start this post it was several weeks ago and I was in that self-induced delusional haze of a new relationship. You know the kind: you feel giddy all the time, smile for no reason and tend to let your mind wander to naughty places about 1000 times a day. You’re so deliriously happy. But of course, it never lasts. I’m not saying happiness doesn’t last, but that all-consuming feeling of getting to know someone and having them get to know you is fleeting. And we all wish to find that special someone, if we haven’t already.
But when I started this post, it was meant to be a somewhat cautionary tale of what happens when you get what you want. Of what happens when you find someone who makes you happy and you let your guard down. It was meant to touch on how scary that is to finally feel like you found someone after years of searching. Scary but good scary, right? Because after all this is what life is about. Love. That euphoria we all strive to have and that hopefully lasts and grows into something deeper. Something more permanent and thoughtful. And I thought that was the case.
We moved quickly, which tends to be my M.O. We spent a lot of time together. Talked daily if not more often than that. We FaceTimed. We confessed falling for each other. It was wonderful. Until it wasn’t.
I went away for a week and apparently absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. In this case it made his heart realize maybe he wasn’t so over the moon after all. Maybe he wanted to take his newfound confidence and euphoria and apply it to other people. Now, mind you, we never talked of exclusivity. It was certainly implied in all the time spent and conversations had. After all, who had time to date anyone else with all the time we spent together or with our respective kids? So, I am not begrudging him that opportunity to see other people. In fact, I encouraged it. Go ahead. See what trainwrecks are out there. Have a good time. But the more I thought about it, the more this seemed selfish on his part. This was not fear of moving too quickly. This was selfishness and arrogance, pure and simple. I made him a better person and now he wanted to see who else might appreciate that.
Clearly, I’m not going to wait around while he sows his oats. I did mention that if he could date others, then so could I and how would that make him feel. He acknowledged he wouldn’t like it. He also acknowledged he was the one who accelerated the relationship in the first place. And that he could have dated others in the beginning of our ‘relationship’ but didn’t. So essentially, he did a 180 on me and at this age and this stage of the game is not something I have time for nor do I deserve it. I deserve better. I deserve more. And while, yes, he could have dated others and not told me, I appreciate the honesty. But like someone who confesses to an affair, just because you’re honest doesn’t mean you should be commended for it.
As I write this, we haven’t spoken about definitively ending things. When he left here Saturday night he told me I was his “#1 girl”, a term so condescending it makes me vomit a little. I’ve been trying to reach him to simply have the 5-minute conversation I think we need to have and frankly I think deserve. After a couple of months, not speaking or ghosting is not only cowardly, it’s downright offensive and disrespectful to both of us. At the age of 40-something, if you aren’t capable of having a conversation to cease a relationship you aren’t mature enough of actually having said-relationship in the first place.
Of course now I reflect on how I could have been so wrong about this person I was truly developing feelings for. But I wrote the very reason above. When you’re blinded with euphoria, you can’t see clearly. You can’t assess. And while every failed relationship is just primer for the right one, it still stings. It still sucks. Honestly I don’t know what’s worse. Getting back into dating, or the sadness you feel when a relationship ends.
For now, I’m debating taking some time off from men…again. But spring is coming. So, maybe not. I’m a woman. I have the right to change my mind.