Sometimes, things just end. Until they don’t.

You know, there’s a certain peace you can derive from when a relationship ends, when you accept that, “Sometimes, relationships just end.”

Then you hang out with someone who has the details on WHY it ended and what ended it, and that rips open the nicely healed scar with a jackhammer and pries it apart with a rusty crowbar.

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I KNEW he thought I was after a damn ring. JESUS H. PEOPLE I AM NEVER AFTER A DAMN RING.

I wanted his heart. I would have been OK with more. Hell, I started dreaming that maybe I could have the normal life after all with him. So FUCK ME for maybe giving off a vibe that I was considering NOT GOING ANYWHERE for a while because he seemed like a keeper.

So, fine, it ended. He pushed me away. I didn’t let him at first. I fought. Oh how I fought. And I gave up.

And now I hear, “I knew there was a You before there was a YOU. Do you understand that? I heard about everything wonderful you did … how you never gave up … and how he appreciated how you loved him and fought for him because he’s no easy man to love.”

The hell, man?

I might have given up too soon, to hear the tale told from the impartial third party. I felt like I hung in there longer than I should have. At the point I was hurting MYSELF over and over and over again, I had to let go.

My friend says to me, there’s still a chance if I want it. Of friendship or otherwise.

I would be OK reviving the friendship. I wanted that more than anything on this earth. Even when everything else was supposedly gone.

And I see how people who can’t take a hint wear on my nerves. Whoever told them that girls mean yes when they say no, needs to be cannibalized.

I said I took all the hints. Why does this make me a bad person?

It doesn’t, but I need to stop taking them. And going back to the way I was and helping to bring this person back.

Apparently only I can do it.

My superhero costume is at the cleaner’s. My capacity to care for anyone beyond myself is sorely limited. And even that’s as half-assed as I can possibly half-ass it.

Trust me, I’m not husband-hunting. And certainly not among my current and immediate past circle.

But if someone needs me, well damn it, count me in.

I don’t know where I’ll find the capacity, but where this one was concerned, I could always find it without batting an eye.

Comments closed.