Crying, part 2

Posted on: December 31, 2011

I ended the last post in April, because that was all I could write about. I don’t even know anymore if I’m crying over him, or over the loss of so many dreams that I had – moving to Europe (or Africa), having an ex-pat family, living a lifestyle I’ve seen and envied, raising little half-British babies with cute accents. I guess it’s a combination of it all.

So, April came and went and here I was still single and there he was, still with a girlfriend, still telling me he loved me, still telling me we would be together. This went on for months… June came around and we had a long talk about where we both saw this going. I told him flat-out that I wanted to be together and I wasn’t in this just for ‘fun’ – I saw a long-term life with him and if he didn’t see the same thing, he had to be honest with me. He said he wanted to grow old with me. He said he wouldn’t dick me over.  Liar.

July – I started to really pressure him to come visit, like we’d been talking about for months. Neither of us was traveling, and summer seemed like a good time to meet up. He said he’d look into tickets, but when it came down to it, he never did… I heard every excuse possible – some I would’ve never imagined:

“I couldn’t look for tickets today at work because I was busy”

“I didn’t even get online today because I was busy”

“I looked for tickets but forgot my passport so I couldn’t book them”

“I couldn’t email you today because my boss was with me” – apparently, for an entire 8 hours. She just sat there and held his hand, I’m sure.

“I went to the office today to book the tickets but the doors were locked so I couldn’t get in, so then I went riding with my friend who hit me with the van and then I couldn’t call you back because I got home, put my phone down inside and went back out and the door locked behind me and I left the keys inside so I was sitting in the car until my roommate came home at  midnight.”  — seriously, I swear to God these are all true. I couldn’t make this shit up if I fucking tried.

“I don’t feel right booking the tickets until I end things with her, which I haven’t”.

I was SO angry, yet not angry enough to end things. We ended up not talking for two weeks… when he finally answered the phone when I called, I told him I thought he’d stopped talking to me. He said he hadn’t, but he hadn’t been paying his phone bill so the phone had been cut off.  This was a month before he went to Switzerland for a bike trip. What the FUCK. I was blind and stupid and just so embarrassed now. But at the time, every excuse made sense to me. I believed what he told me because I had no other choice if I wanted to keep this fantasy going.

All of July, I cried… I assumed he wasn’t breaking up with his girlfriend because he didn’t want to. That he wanted to be with her instead of me… he swore it wasn’t true, but that he just hadn’t been able to hurt her. I yelled at him because he was clearly okay hurting me. He apologized, but really, nothing changed.  He said he had to be careful with the break-up because they had mutual friends he didn’t want to lose. Yet, if the outcome had been that he lost me, I don’t know if he would’ve cared. And I still fought for him, for my chance to be with him. We had only seen each other on the flight, and then we’d talked for so long… I didn’t think it was fair to not see each other again.

Even still, he already had excuses though about what would happen after – “I won’t be able to see you as much as you’d like, or as much as you deserve, because I have no money” – and yet, STILL, I cried over him. I begged him to end things with her. I begged him to want to be with me instead – and all along, he said he did.

Finally, I offered to come visit him. He was leaving on his trip to Switzerland and I wanted to have this resolved before he was out of touch for another week… He was surprised that I would come see him, when we’d only ever talked about him coming to the US, but it was good for me too. I was a wreck at work, not happy, not productive, and I needed some reassurance on where this was going. So, I bought my ticket and called to let him know. It was that same day that he told me things were finally done with his now-ex girlfriend.  It didn’t end until I purchased a ticket and he had no other choice. I had been willing to see him even with his girlfriend still in the picture, but I guess to his credit, he didn’t want that to happen.

Off I flew to Edinburgh. I’m grateful I went for many reasons… even though he ended up being the biggest douche ever, those 5 days together were amazing. It was just us, 24 hours a day. Staying in his flat, drinking hot chocolate, site-seeing and really enjoying each other’s company.  The first day we walked around, we held hands for just a bit, until he dropped mine saying his palms get to sweaty. Not a big deal to me, I don’t enjoy holding hands very much anyways…And, honestly, I wasn’t sure if a bi-racial couple would be accepted – it did make me a little nervous to be so openly with him. I don’t know why. In any case, by the end of the week, he reached for my hand at the start of the day and didn’t let go till we got home. He gave me so many sweet kisses while holding me – at the castle ruins, watching fireworks, sitting on the sofa together. I loved being in his arms – it felt so surreal after so many months of talking about what it would be like to meet up. My second day there, he asked me to accept a delivery – he had mailed his bike parts off to Wales to get them fixed… so again, he found the money for that, but never for me…. he never thought to send me a gift while I was in the US, he never thought to send a fucking postcard to me. Money was always so tight for him, but he found it for the things that mattered. I just never did. I came dead last after his friends and his bikes, and I accepted it. I see that now. Not so much back then.

Towards the end of my trip, he told me he’d come visit me after he got back from his field work in Africa. I asked him if he meant it, and he looked at me quizzically… I pointed out that according to his broken promises, he was to have already been to see me at least twice, and if he didn’t mean it, I would rather he not say it. At all. And he said “Fair enough. But I mean it. I want to come see you again.” And, he told me that again as he said goodbye at the airport. That he’d see me soon.

His first few weeks in Africa were fine – I knew we wouldn’t chat a lot. But then, it got even less and less. I loved to hear from him – email, facebook chat, calls, texts, whatever. We talked about his work, how things were going, how he spent his birthday alone. I told him we’d make that up when he came to visit. I asked again if he was coming and his exact response was “Yeah, of course, but not straight away the week that I get home.”  Well, I never expected that… but I should’ve started to see the signs more clearly. He didn’t call or text for my birthday – just waited till he caught me on chat again. But that didn’t stop him for asking for some naughty pictures, and I am so incredibly stupid I sent exactly what he wanted. And I sent them with the hope that he’d see them and realize what he was missing and just want to visit me even more. That’s not what happened.

He came back from Africa right before Thanksgiving and I didn’t even know. I didn’t get a call saying he was home. I finally called him – he was half-asleep and told me: “Sorry, I got home and the phone didn’t work and then it did and then my friend picked me up for a party but KLM lost my bags so I had to go shopping for new clothes. Then my credit cards didn’t work and then the phone stopped again and I’ve spent days fixing it.”  Again, I swear that is all true. Every single word. If you’re reading this and wondering how could I have been SO STUPID, I can’t explain it. I have no excuses. I have nothing to say for myself except that I am extremely embarrassed. Part of my tears now are due to seeing that I could get soooo played and not stopping it, even when I realized what was going on.

So I knew this was the beginning of the end, but I still, to this day, don’t know exactly why. I have a feeling things got too serious for him, and he was faced with having to make choices about life and the future that he’s not capable of making. When we had argued in the summer, I had told him that the biggest red flag I’d seen so far was his complete inability to act like an adult. And instead of being ashamed, he said that was the 3rd time that week someone had told him he was child-like. I pointed out that it wasn’t a compliment, but I don’t think he ever understood that.

In any case, I didn’t hear from him over the Thanksgiving holidays. Not even an email. I would go to work, see he hadn’t bother to contact me, and cry. Then I would come home to my family and pretend to be so happy, all the while my heart breaking into a tiny million pieces.  I was leaving for Tanzania the week after Thanksgiving – we chatted on facebook the friday before I left, and he told me his friend died in a horrific car crash. I felt awful for him. He didn’t know I was leaving for TZ and I didn’t bother to tell him that day… it just seemed inappropriate given the context of our conversation.

So off I flew… and as each day went by and there were no emails from him or messages on facebook, I started to cry. He used to email me 5 times a day, he used to miss me when we didn’t talk for one night… and now, I was on another continent and he couldn’t be bothered to care. I called him from there and left him a message, and no response to that either. I cried and cried and cried because I knew this was the end. This boy, who I had loved for so long and had so much hope and promise, was just going to ignore me, like he did with his ex, and hope that I got fed up and end it.

I got home and called him Friday. No answer. Called Saturday. No answer. Called Sunday. No answer.  I quit trying. I finally caught him on facebook on Tuesday and he apologized. Said his friend’s death had made him really reclusive. Yet, there, on his fb wall, for everyone to see, was his friend asking him to look for a hat he’d left at his place. Basically, he was SO reclusive that he couldn’t talk to me, but he was hosting friends. Then there was another post where someone said they were sorry they’d missed his call. There is no real way to tell someone that they’re using another person’s death as an excuse, because it’s rude to do that… however, he was. Because he’d been treating me like shit prior to the tragic event, it didn’t coincide with the death.

It was at this point that I literally saw the writing on the wall. So I asked him if he wanted to end things, and he said no. I said I loved him and he said he loved me too. He said he’d call that night, and I knew in my heart that call was never going to happen. It didn’t.

The Wednesday before Christmas – caught him on chat again and asked how his night was, he told me he fell asleep early. I asked him if we were ever going to talk again, and he said he didn’t know. And then… he told me he couldn’t be there for me, he told me I deserved better, he told me that he wasn’t good enough for me, he told me he was a bad person and he knows how much he keeps hurting me and how he keeps doing it. And I cried at work while I read these IMs come in and even though I knew this was going to happen, I wasn’t prepared for it to end on fucking facebook chat. And I cried because this boy, who said he loved me even still, knew how much pain he caused me by his actions and did nothing to change them.

I asked him if that’s what he was trying to do – end things on chat. He said no, that wasn’t his intent. That he was just being honest about how dark he was feeling. So I asked him if he wanted me to end things and he said no, he didn’t want that either. He said he didn’t want to end things feeling the way he did because if he got in a lighter mood in 2 weeks, he didn’t want to regret anything.

And I prayed he meant that, even though I’d just been shit on by some dick who couldn’t pick up a phone to properly end a relationship. Someone who thought having this conversation on the internet replaced actual discussion about it. But the thing is, we never actually ended it because I refused to accept that we were finishing things online, even though that’s how we started. I told him I didn’t want to end things, that I wasn’t ready to let go and I didn’t think it was fair that we only saw each other once. He agreed but said he didn’t know if he could come visit me because he was probably losing his job in February. I told him I’d come see him again, in January if possible. He said he’d get back to me on the dates. I told him I still loved him. He said he loved me too. He told me he couldn’t move away from Europe and I pointed out that we’d never discussed this and I’d always assumed I’d be the one to move. He seemed surprised but we didn’t talk about it anymore. He said he had to drive home for Christmas and he’d be on facebook and we’d “Talk soon. xxx” — that was a week ago. I haven’t heard anything from him.

I know this is over, but it still hurts. I also know it’s better it’s over – he is soon to be jobless, he is constantly broke when it comes to anything dealing with me and mostly, he got what he wanted out of me and then when it got too real, let it end on fucking IM instead of manning up and calling to end things. My friend pointed out he is the path of least resistance – and it’s true. Whatever is easiest for him, regardless of how I feel, is what he does. And yes, it is better to know that now rather than 2 years from now after even more time and energy and emotions have been invested. But that doesn’t really make it hurt less.


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