I saw you today, for what is turning out to be the last time. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I have no reason to ever want to see you again.

You suggested that you pop into my work sometime and surprise me. I was repulsed by the idea, and your feelings were hurt that I wouldn’t welcome a visit.

That ship, my friend, has sailed.

I begged too often and too long for you to come and see me at work. I suggested, too many times, outings with friends. It’s over.

It’s they, my friends and coworkers, that have had to scrape me up, every time, and flabber-ghastingly again and again, once more again, from another round of love with you. It’s likely that if they had to do it again, they would disown me. They are my rock, not you, and they do not like you. They do not approve. I do not blame them.

Why am I wasting time on someone who can’t get it together enough to put in the effort when it matters? You wait until our relationship with each other is string-like, two people talking on soup cans connected with some twine, and you decide to wait until then to say, “you matter to me?”

I saw you out of pity and it was wrong. I gave into my own sick curiosity and that was wrong. You said that the house was sad over the holidays, no one put up a tree or had a nice meal. Maybe you were trying to save my feelings, help me not feel left out… however unlikely that is. I secretly hope the truth is that everyone was sad, that everyone missed me and that they felt too sad to celebrate.

You tried to get me to explain, again, why I can’t be with you. The fact that you still don’t get it, or care enough to remember the reasons I would leave, make me blind with rage. You simply were trying to manipulate me into a loop of exhaustive talk where I would give up, and forget about how you treat me when you get too comfortable, and throw my little hands in the air and say, “why, I just don’t remember why I was mad at you,” and throw my self at you and shower you with kisses, love, affection.

Not this time. I officially am dead inside when it comes to you. I am turned off by the idea of being with you.

And while it may have been stupid to agree to see you again, I believe it is exactly what I needed. Thank you.




One thought on “Closure

  1. So sorry. You can do this! Just finished a book that might really help: “It’s Called Breakup Because It’s Broken.” Take care.

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