Hard truth #1- He never should have moved to Indiana.
Hard truth #2- I thought about ending things myself, multiple times.
Hard truth #3- He never made me a priority.
Hard truth #4- I was always the one more invested, more in love, more willing to compromise.
Hard truth #5- He quit. He gave up. He couldn’t even have an honest conversation with me. He’s a coward.
Hard truth #6- Did I lead him on? Did I lead him to think that we would share finances and move in together? I guess that’s not so much a hard truth as it is a question that should be explored.
Hard truth #7- I don’t think he ever really wanted to follow through with his declaration to move to where I was.
Let’s begin with Hard Truth #1- He never should have moved to Indiana.
I think this could have potentially worked between us had he not decided, spur of the moment, that he was going to sell his route and his house and move up to Indiana when his daughter graduated. I spent four years thinking that was the plan. Maybe if we’d had a conversation about the best thing for us to do I would have made the decision to move down there. If we’d had a conversation and really talked about it as a couple instead of him making grand declarations maybe I would have been able to come to the conclusion that it made much more sense for me to move down there than for him to move up here and I wouldn’t have felt so blindsided when he announced he was moving back and I felt the enormous pressure to move to him.
Honestly, it did make more sense for me to go down there. At the time I was a bank teller. I could do that anywhere. Of course, I put myself on an upward trajectory and working behind the scenes requires a little more than simply a branch. You generally have to be able to work at the bank’s headquarters. Or remotely, which I could do if I stayed with the same branch. But that was much further in the future than when he began his nonsense bullshit of moving up to where I was.
I didn’t have a house to sell. I didn’t have a route to sell. The weather is much better down in Virginia than it is up here. I’m used to living far away from my family. It might have been different with it being my kids but I didn’t have the mindset that I couldn’t go back to visit. It would be a priority. And since my kids have been raised to go see family they would have made it a priority to come see me as well.
With him making his declaration and sticking to it for four years despite all the outs I gave him I never had to think about what I would do if it was me moving down there.
And honestly? It did change when he moved up here. I’ve discussed this before. I felt a tremendous amount of pressure to not let him down.
Besides, him never moving up here would have been so much better than what he did. He moved, gave it all of three months and then turned around and went back to his kids a few months later. I say he gave it three months because once the holidays hit and he started moping around I knew he was going to go back.
If he had just stayed there I think we could have continued happily meeting up on the weekends. I don’t know if things would have gone south once I moved down there or not. I’d like to think they wouldn’t have but who knows? Maybe the only thing that would placate him was me living in the same damn house.
After he made his announcement things were never the same. Every year for his birthday I would gush about him and how even though it was his birthday I was the one getting the real gift because he was so wonderful and I was so thankful he was in my life. I couldn’t do it last year.
Perhaps he’s right and I was pissed he moved back. If I was I deserved to be. He led me on for four years. But I don’t think he’s right. I was hurt and heart broken and sad and a whole host of other things but I did understand. I always doubted he’d be able to leave his kids behind. So I didn’t blame him despite the heartbreak and disappointment. I think telling himself that I was pissed off about it somehow justified him doing what he did. She’ll never forgive me; she’ll never get over this. So I may as well end it.
This is how much I wanted to be okay with what he did. I told myself that I was better suited to be a long distance girlfriend than an in person girlfriend. Hell, maybe he would agree. Fuck him! Just like everything else I twisted myself into knots to be okay with the decisions he was making. I struggled to make it okay. I would move down there. We could do another 2-3 years of long distance. Nothing would change. But everything had changed. I simply refused to accept it.
Hard truth #2- I thought about ending things myself, multiple times. I thought about making a clean break after our weekend in Chillicothe when we went our separate ways back in June. Partly because I always knew this is how it would end. Why not end it once he goes back?
I still wouldn’t have wanted to be his friend. It would have still been way too painful. At least if I had ended it when we went back I wouldn’t feel so blindsided. I wouldn’t feel like I wasted 5 1/2 years with this person. I would be able to look back on our relationship and think of all the great times we had together, and sure, I might still get a little sentimental and weepy on occasion but I wouldn’t feel so betrayed. It would have felt like it was a much more mutual decision.
I thought about ending it the first time we met up again in Chillicothe. I cried almost the entire way there, thinking I should just end it. It was the first time I was ever not totally excited to see him.
But by the end of the weekend I was fine. Hell, even before the end of it. I even drove all the way to Virginia the following weekend and we went on vacation together. It’s the first time it was ever just the two of us. Every other time we’d gone out to Utah and my kids were with us. We were already talking about where we would go this year.
I thought about ending it multiple times, even right after Christmas when he canceled getting together with me for New Year’s Eve in order to clean his house.
You know why I didn’t? Mostly because I rationalized it. It’s not as though I had men beating down my door. It’s not as though I had a ton of different options. It’s not like I had anything better to do. I know that probably sounds horrible but it was a way for me to justify not ending things.
Don’t get me wrong. We did have a lot of fun when we were together. Unfortunately, we only got together 4 times. Maybe if we’d been meeting up like we used to we wouldn’t be here now. I’ll never know.
I also didn’t end it because I had made vows. I took those seriously even if they weren’t legally binding. I’ll talk about that more in my next post.
I didn’t end it because by this time I had already invested 4 1/2 years with this person. Maybe it’s my history of never dating a guy for more than a little over a year but I tend to think that if you’re not planning a life with this person you need to let go after year 1, possibly year 2. I’m not going to spend 4 1/2 years with someone for shits and grins. If I’m with him for that long it’s probably because I think this relationship is going to go the distance.
I will tell you this though. I dreaded doing the long distance thing again. I dreaded the phone calls where the connection would break up and we would have to repeat things over and over again. I dreaded having a relationship through a fucking phone once again. I dreaded the 5 hour drive even though we’d have a perfectly delightful time together. I dreaded having to use vacation time to drive.
For four years most of my vacation time was used in half days so that I could drive to wherever we were meeting and not get there at 11:00 at night.
Really, I just dreaded the thought of him not being with me every day once again.
And, of course, I felt a tremendous amount of pressure to move down to where he was. I have spent my life moving around for a man. I didn’t want to continue that. I wasn’t going to do it. And then… I bent for him. I was willing to make the move, move for another man one more time. I loved him. I wanted to be with him. At the time my choices were pretty shitty- end the relationship (in hindsight the best option), continue to do long distance forever, or move to be with the man I loved.
Hard truth #3- He never made me a priority. He really didn’t but he was so wonderful in so many other ways that it was hard to notice. Plus, I’m not typically a needy person so it wasn’t like he repeatedly let me down.
I’ve already said that if he was supposed to go to dinner with his kids, go to a ballgame, get ice cream, have a farting contest, look at the sky and name the clouds, and I needed him for something he would choose his kids. I’ll be honest and say I’ve never actually had a heart attack or been in a car accident or had one of my kids or my mom injured or dead, but I’m pretty sure, based on his previous behavior, that he would continue on with whatever it was they had planned and he’d come see me after.
I’m not blaming his kids. I honestly think that if he told them what was going on they would be appalled. They would absolutely understand.
I also think it’s kind of ironic because I know that each one of his kids would choose their spouse, live in partner, or boyfriend over him each and every time. Sorry, Dad. I’m going to have to cancel. Something came up with my wife/girlfriend/boyfriend. And yet for whatever reason he couldn’t do the same for me.
In fact, not only couldn’t he do the same for me and put me first, he couldn’t handle it when my kids came first and I wasn’t concentrating 100% on him. I find this to be extremely funny because the only thing I did was get my kid food. I didn’t let them dictate what weekends I could go out. I didn’t let them dictate whether or not we could go out. For whatever reason his kids were always his priority over me yet he expected to be first in my life. He couldn’t handle the fact that Picasso wasn’t ready to launch and that he still needed me. And again I say, so fucking what? It’s not like I ever told him I couldn’t do something with him because of my adult child.
There are only two times that I can think of that I really needed him. The first time was when I found out my STBX had canceled over $1500 worth of checks on me. As you probably all remember that’s when he chose to watch a movie with the same child he had spent the entire day with.
I could count our first anniversary where he opted to attend not-his-child’s graduation at his daughter’s insistence but I won’t. That was more of a want than a need. It is an example though of him not prioritizing me.
The final time I really needed him was when I was attacked by Shelby’s boyfriend’s dog. I haven’t ever talked about this because it was very traumatic. I am a dog lover by nature and to have this dog bite me without provocation was extremely jarring.
The dog was sitting on the couch and I was standing in an open area between the kitchen and the living room. The dog calmly got up off the couch, came over to me, and jumped up on me. I put my hands up to push him off and that’s when he began biting my hands. Repeatedly. I still have scars on my left hand which bore the brunt of it. I ended up needing stitches.
My daughter bandaged me up the best she could and we actually went out to lunch as planned despite my throbbing hand.
As I was driving back home realizing that I needed to go to the urgent care and have my hand looked at I called Matt. I knew he was over at his parent’s house and his family was over there for a big game day. It was their last hurrah with him before he moved up here.
So again I’m understanding. This is the last time with his family before he moves. They’re going to miss him. I’m taking him away from them. I shouldn’t bother him with this.
Finally I decide to lift my bandaged hand and I tell him that I was attacked by this 100+ pound German Shepherd mix. I tell him I’m driving back home and I’m going directly to urgent care, that I’ll probably need stitches.
As always he sympathized with me and then apologized after about 5, maybe 10 minutes, because he needed to get back to his family so that they could continue on with their family time, playing games.
Yep. Sorry you were attacked but I’m playing board and card games with my family. Talk to you tonight. Keep me updated.
I justified it by telling myself this was the last time he was going to spend with his family. Don’t be selfish, I told myself.
You know what else I find funny? He couldn’t ever put me first but he would get upset with me for not defending him against comments other people made on my blog.
I know he was undoubtedly upset with most of the comments made on my Opinions Wanted post. He was the one who told me I should write a post about it! I didn’t do it on my own.
And after I posted Take Me Home, Country Roads he was furious with me that I hadn’t defended him. I didn’t think any of the comments were that horrible. Sure, someone told me I deserved so much more and asked how long we were going to continue to kick the can down the road (about 7 months apparently) but no one was attacking him.
I told him the truth. I didn’t reply because some of the comments made me cry. It wasn’t that they were mean. It was because they were undoubtedly pointing out some truths I didn’t want to face. I was trying so hard to put a positive spin on all of this and then someone points out, “Hey, this is not the same. He moved and he’s moving back. He’s chosen a life with his kids over a life with you, the woman he supposedly loves. That’s a huge deal!”
You know what else? He had this very annoying habit of interrupting our phone conversation any time someone new entered his line of sight.
If his daughter came home from work or anywhere else he would immediately say hi to her, regardless of whether or not I was in the middle or a sentence or not. I accepted it because I rationalized it away. If we were sitting in the living room talking and she had come home we would probably stop talking to say hello, right? We wouldn’t think anything of it.
But he didn’t just say hello. He would have a freaking conversation! How was work? What time do you work tomorrow? He’d talk about the dogs and whether or not they’d been fed. It could go on for 5 minutes or more.
Same thing if he happened to see his son outside. I no longer existed.
And it wasn’t just his kids. If he was out and about and happened to be FaceTiming me and someone he knew crossed his path he’d say hi and strike up a conversation.
Finally, when I pointed out that his newfound friends weren’t exactly friendly to me after he accused me of being rude to them he defended them over me. They were under pressure to get the float finished; they didn’t have time to chat with me and ask me questions. Basically, his friends, again the ones that he couldn’t care less about, had every right to be rude and exclusionary towards me but I should have tried harder to kiss their asses.
I guess that brings us to Hard Truths #4 and #5- I was always the one more invested, more in love, more willing to compromise and he was the one who quit. He gave up. He couldn’t even have an honest conversation with me. He’s a coward. He’s real good at the grand romantic gestures and the huge declarations of love but he sucks at the day to day living.
I don’t think there’s really anything else to be said about that. Except for the obvious that his follow through sucks. And that perhaps it’s true once things started to get real and more difficult he ran like a scared kid. It’s fun when it’s easy. But when you need to work at it? He bails.