I’m weird with relationships, but you would know that by now if we’re about to break up. I like relationships. I like companionship and cuddling and having a source of support that I can support right back. I have a fascination and respect for love, I like love.
I also like space and time alone and my own thoughts and my own dinner and my own side of the bed and sometimes not talking about it even though you’re upset that I’m upset and you just want to help.
I’m just a weird girl. I’m not cold or hard-hearted. Just weird.
If I’m breaking up with you, I’ve been thinking about this for awhile. I’ve probably had a lot of conversations with myself over this. I’ve weighed the pros and cons, agonized over them, if you will. I’ve thought about what my life would be like without you compared to what it is with you. I’ve thought about your face when I tell you, your reaction for the few days afterwards. I’ve thought about whether having my own space is really worth not having you. I’ve brought these things up with Stephanie and she knows enough about you by now to know what I really want. She knows if I’m bringing it up, I’m already done.
So when I break up with you, I’m going to be breaking up with you for good. I’ve already come to the conclusion, however unfair this is to you, that I am done. I am a fan of nothing but the clean break, there’s no other possible way for us to move on. You will be deleted from my electronic life in every way I know how just to avoid contacting you. I will suggest you do the same.
When I sit you down to tell you, I’ll probably already have your things packed and ready to give back. I might even already have mine from your place, having taken them slowly but surely back home during my time of contemplation. I’m going to try to make this easy.
I’ll probably tell you I care about you, that I’ll miss you, but that I’m not happy. I’ll probably tell you that you’ll find someone better for you and, trust me, you will. I’ll probably cry. Then I will leave. Or you will leave. And we will be done.
It’s likely that you won’t hear from me again unless you contact me first. I’ll almost always answer if you do but then you’ll get upset that you’re the only one who makes the first move. You’ll think I’m over this and I’ve moved on and I never needed you and I’m not talking to you because I think I’m better than this.
No. That’s not true. I’ve deleted your phone number and your facebook and your emails. I’ve deleted our pictures and our call history. I’ve deleted your friends that were not mutual in the first place, out of respect.
But deep down in the back of my closet, my bookshelf, or an old journal’s pages, there lies the truth. There you will find the journal we used to write back and forth in, the ripped out hastily written notes exclaiming, “have a good day! xoxo”, and the pictures that we printed. That’s where the hard stuff lies, literally and figuratively. That’s where you stay.
And then when the day comes when you meet someone and she is perfect for you, I’ll be happy. Then I will find all those old notes and pictures and crinkled memories and my heart will break. Then I will miss you and probably cry a little and wonder… just wonder. I’ll know that the choice was right, but I’ll still have a moment.
If I ever break up with you, I’ll pretend it was easy. It will all seem too planned but that’s because it is. I’ll walk away and never look back.
But what you need to know is that while I’m driving home I’m listening to Keith Urban sing “take your cat and leave my sweater” and trying to ignore the lump in my throat. What you need to know is that I’m making this as easy as I can so that we might, one day, be okay. What you need to know is that my heart is breaking too and if I keep in contact with you, it will never fuse.
And for a few days, the space will not seem worth it.