Well, it’s happened. While we’re officially claiming it as an “indefinite break” my girlfriend of near four years and I decided to stop being intimate partners a couple of nights ago. I think the “indefinite” part was really just a softening. We should call a spade a spade as the cliche goes; it’s a break-up.
I can’t speak for my now ex, but I don’t think I was ever really getting my needs met. However, she’s nice, smart and fun, but more in a good friends kind of way. Hopefully that will continue in some form. She seems to have a good track record of retaining friends who were former loves.
On the other hand, there was no emotional heavy lifting to be had. All was kept on the surface and at a distance. Statements of endearment, even “I like you” were few and far between. There were times I tried. Times I’d say I missed her, or times that I’d even say “I love you” all to the effect of either nothing of an occasional “me too”. Eventually, even those efforts stopped as it did inflict little micro-hurts. Enough hurt in the same spot, no matter how small, begins to leave a scar or callous that is noticeable to the naked eye.
In the latter months I even began to reject the notion of physical affection. I’m not meaning sexual as that rejection leaves large pain and resentment; I surrendered that awhile ago, verbally stating that I was not going to pursue her sexually any more to set a clear boundary. I mean the little things. The hand hold, the hug, the peck on the cheek. All became forced and hardened as if the voids were now full of concrete. The playful bite on my jawline as we greeted and departed became an annoyance.
Indeed, I was done. I don’t have time or energy for recovering from such an emotional wasteland. Granted, I didn’t help things get to that state. I think that was a preemptive strike of sorts. Light the fuse to cause the relationships implosion. Like a depth charge to cause our yellow submarine to implode. In this case the large-scale implosion didn’t happen. It created a leak and gradual pressure equalization. Still, the result was the same, no air left to breathe, no protective shell, no cointainment, no life.
This doesn’t mean I don’t hurt. I do. I wish things could have been different. Do I wish I had the better part of four years back? Not really. We had lots of fun. We took some trips and had some really connected moments, but it wasn’t enough.
For my part, I am sorry. It is time to move on.