Well...the conversation was not a real conversation. We did not discuss ways to make things better or if it was something we should even try to fix. Not sure why he dragged this out for a week and a half -- I gave him every opportunity to be done when we talked on the phone. I thought he wanted to think, to discuss, but, apparently... it was a foregone conclusion. 'South' was the direction we were going in. I knew it was when I didn't hear from him until Friday. I got the "how about 10 or 10:30 Saturday morning?" mid afternoon on Friday... that is, most definitely, not the timing of a man interested in making it better.
I felt nauseous Saturday morning and had friends, and my daughter, telling me to blow it off (that his behavior did not warrant any kind of closure-kindness), but I felt the need to see it through to the end. I've always run from the messy parts of relationships, but for some reason, wanted to see this one play out to the bitter end (though "bitter" is really not the right word here). I shed some tears at the end of our almost-hour chat - he did not. We hugged. He said he was sorry and it was done.
I guess I'm left wondering on why most of my relationships have a three-month time line. Usually it's me who gets aggravated and wants to move on (sometimes it's way less than three months, but that seems to be my going average, and it really works for a headline). I'm not liking either role right now. "Dump-er." "Dump-ee." They both suck.
So, for the record, the Editor/Sportswriter (he's been nicknamed both -- as his job changed midway through knowing him) is an official member of the ex-files.
On a happier note...just discovered that the number 1 song on the day of my birth was "It's My Party." Seems so appropriate. I'm going to try and make that phrase today's mantra...
Find your birthday song here.
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