The Accusations

I apologize for the choppiness of these next few entries. I have a whole bunch to say and I want to make sure no one misses anything so it’s going to be broken up into a few different posts. I may end up repeating myself sometimes. Deal with it. Things may be out of order. I’m going through a crisis right now so deal with it. You’re all smart. I’m sure you can follow along. With that caveat let’s begin, shall we?

What happened, you may be wondering? Hell if I know.

What I do know is he stood in my office one day in April or May and said, “Don’t cry. This isn’t goodbye. We’re just going back to our old plan until we figure out a new plan.” What I also know is he moved back the beginning of June. We saw each other a grand total of four times since he moved back.

Well golly, Sam, that doesn’t sound normal!

No, no it doesn’t. Let me explain.

He asked me not to pressure him to get together when he first got back because he needed time to get his house back in order. His son and his wife had moved into the apartment above the garage while their house was being built and they had moved everything out of the Air BnB into a room in the house. I guess maybe he felt the need to reclaim his house from his daughter and her best friend/roommate. So I was a good little girlfriend and I let him lead.

I’m going to add in a little extra background on this. I always felt like I was the one pushing to see him more. It’s probably not true. He definitely did ask about getting together so I don’t want to paint a picture of him being totally bored and never wanting to meet up. When we first started dating I almost ended things with him one time because he canceled on me to go see his son’s wedding venue and I was like, “Look, you’re saying you’re going to move up here and we will have seen each other a grand total of approximately 12 times. This is never going to work.”

I took it back immediately but I said it.

There were other times where we made tentative plans and then they would be changed because of his kids. I don’t even remember the second time it happened but I do remember telling him I was canceling on our weekend because I was going to go do something with my daughter.

I always felt like he put his kids first and I put him first. Not to say I neglected my kids, but if I had plans to meet up with him and my kid wanted to do something I wasn’t afraid to say, “I already have plans. Let’s do this another time.” Obviously if it was something like prom or graduation my kid came first, but daughter’s boyfriend’s graduation party? Sorry, sweetie, I’ll send a card and check; I’ve got plans that weekend.

I sometimes thought he was almost afraid to tell me no or to cancel on me because he feared my reaction.

So this time around I was not going to pressure him.

We finally saw each other the last weekend in August.

Looking back now, of course, I wonder if maybe I should have spoken up. “Hey, how long does it take to get your house in order?” “Hey! Let’s get together sooner than August. I miss you. I want to see you.”

But I didn’t want to pressure him. This is what he asked for. I gave it to him.

Maybe he was pissed that when he’d throw out, “Oh, I thought about maybe trying to get together this weekend but then I thought, ‘No, too late for that,’” I wasn’t begging him to follow through. It’s not like he asked if I wanted to get together those times. He told me he thought about it but decided against it. Again, trying not to pressure him. Trying to respect his wishes. Trying to let him lead this.

I remember him hugging me in the room as we packed up to leave. “We’re good, right?”

“Yes, we’re good,” I assured him.

I went down to his place the following weekend. We ended up going down to Charleston and having a marvelous time. We spent 9 or 10 days together.

At the end of that week together he tells me, “You know what’s coming up and how I get.” Yep, he filed for an extension on his taxes and they were due October 15th. He didn’t want to even attempt to get together until after he had filed his taxes. I left September 11th to go back home. We didn’t get together for another two months. Again, I gave him what he wanted. I never pressured him into meeting up. He finally suggested getting together.

We met in Chillicothe and had a great time. That was the relationship goals weekend. The, “We are having the best time watching you two laugh together,” weekend.

I flew down to Virginia the first weekend in December. He told me he wanted to be my ride or die. He told me I was so cute when I was tipsy and telling him how much I loved him. I thought we had a great time.

I thought we were getting back on track with seeing each other more regularly.

Shelby’s graduation was 2 weeks later. He had volunteered to come up for it. He was deathly ill the week before and still had a bad cough. He canceled on us.

Then he tells me the week after Christmas, “Hey, we could get together over New Year’s Eve.” I tell him we sure could.

After a few days with no further conversation regarding the get together I say to him, “So I guess we’re not getting together on New Year’s after all.”

He said no, he really needed to get his house straightened up.

When I mentioned this to him the night he ended it he told me I didn’t seem that interested in getting together so he just dropped it.

Apparently I was supposed to throw him a parade or something. Maybe jump up and down and shriek with glee that he finally wanted to see me. Thank him profusely for acknowledging my presence and honoring me with his. I’m not sure what he wanted. All I know is my response was lacking in appropriate enthusiasm.

A week later he hung out with co-workers after work on a Friday night, ignored my phone call, got drunk, and stayed out until 4:30 in the morning.

We got into a fight. I stood my ground and made my case. After a few days of acting like nothing had ever happened he suddenly dropped the hammer- he’d been thinking about talking to me and ending things since July.

Oh, and of course he wants to remain friends. He was absolutely shocked at the thought of me blocking and deleting him on everything.

Ultimately, when he’s not asking why anyone has to be the bad guy or why can’t it just be a case of it didn’t work out, he blames everything on me.

I suppose that’s good, right? Because that means if everything is my fault if I ever get into another relationship then I know what to fix. Hooray!

What are my litany of offenses?

Where do I even start?

He believes we have different definitions of what a future together means. He told me I had no desire to assimilate into his life, that I was fine meeting up with him for a weekend but that was it. He told me I’m crazy insanely jealous. He accused me of being perfectly comfortable living at my mom’s and I had no real desire to have a place of my own. I didn’t see him; I was always on my phone, even when we were talking on the phone. I played Candy Crush or was catching Pokemon or reading instead of focusing on him. He claims that I would ignore him when I got home from work when he lived in Indiana and not speak to him for hours and remembers many dinners eaten at the table where I would be reading on my phone. When he moved up here he was pissed because I hadn’t carved out a space for him. He was pissed that he had to clear a shelf off in the bathroom and had to bring in a dresser to put his clothes. He was pissed that I wouldn’t defend him against my son and even when I would defend him then he’d be pissed because Picasso had dared to say anything that might anger him. He told me he felt like we were only friends. He told me he felt like he was a bauble in my bracelet that had lost its shine. He kept asking me what had changed to make me “see” him once again because up until that week I supposedly hadn’t asked him about work or focused entirely on him. Now I was texting him at work. What changed? He reached way back in time and told me I had ruined a near perfect weekend for him when his son got married because I had accused him of fucking his wife on his son’s wedding alter. Oh, and I don’t like sex.

Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll be taking most of these one by one.

You know what pisses me off the most? He never gave me a fucking chance. He never opened his fucking mouth unless it was to bitch about my son. He has the nerve to tell me I have shitty communication skills. Not once did he say, “I feel disconnected from you.” Or, “I feel like we’re drifting apart. What can we do to get us back to a good spot?” Or, “You’re ignoring me.” Or, “I don’t feel like you want to get together anymore.” He didn’t even say, “I think we have different visions of what a life together looks like. I think we should have a serious talk about this and see if there is any common ground.” Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I’m just his fucking ride or die one day and the next day he’s ignoring my phone calls to get drunk with co-workers and the day after that he’s dumping my ass.