Why did it take so long to let her go?
I was thousands of miles away and we were about to FaceTime but I wasn’t that excited.
I should’ve been more excited, shouldn’t I? I’d been away for about a week already and we’d barely spoken … why wasn’t I that excited?
I can’t remember what we spoke about. Nothing important. What I do remember is wanting to stop speaking to her so I could chill with my friends.
I was confused, but I ignored it. I’d deal with it when I went back. She was coming to the airport to meet me anyway so I’m sure we’d embrace each other and kiss and then we’d be ok.
She sprinted up to me at the airport and almost knocked me over. I was annoyed. Annoyed? Seriously? I was annoyed? Why wasn’t I happy to see her? Why wasn’t I holding her like I’d never let her go?
We didn’t even have sex that night. We’d always had the hottest physical chemistry, the best I’ve ever had, but I just didn’t want to. Probably because I was tired, right? I’d just had a 12-hour flight. I must’ve been exhausted.
Over the next few days, one question kept popping into my mind:
“Am I still in love with her?”
I tried to ignore it. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there. I tried to make this new reality go away. Do any of those things ever work out for anybody?
I asked myself that question over the next few days, and few weeks, and few months.
I didn’t want to answer it. I didn’t want to know the answer to it.
I was spending a lot more time with my friends than with her. That’s not necessarily bad, but it was bad because I kept choosing them over her. I wanted to choose them over her. I cancelled plans with her so I could see them.
The break up broke her. We both cried but she was the one who was hurting more, because, unlike me, she didn’t understand. She thought it had just come out of nowhere.
She thought it had come out of nowhere because I’d hidden myself. And probably because she’d ignored me hiding myself.
It hadn’t come out of nowhere for me. It had been building for months. I knew I wasn’t in love with her months before I told her, and yet I decided it was more important to keep it from her than to tell her.
Because I’d decided it was more important to do what was easy than what was right
Because I didn’t want to hurt her.
I didn’t want to hurt her, so I strung her along for months, choosing my friends over her at every opportunity, and then I broke up with her completely unexpectedly, and hurt her.
I ended up hurting her even more than I would’ve hurt her, all because I didn’t want to hurt her.
And what about me? I’d stayed in a relationship I didn’t want to be in because I didn’t want to hurt her, and because I didn’t want to have that conversation, and all those things did was give me pain.
I wasn’t being fair to anybody. To her or to me.
I knew I wasn’t in love with her anymore.
And now I know that the pain of breaking up now will always be less than the pain of breaking up later.