We all know when the fight is over. We aren’t always ready to admit it, but deep down inside we know it.
We start to become emotionally exhausted of fighting. And thoughts begin to creep into our heads that maybe it just isn’t worth it. Clarity begins to shine like the morning rays that flood your room in the morning, and you start to see the things that had been blind to you in the name of love.
You’re afraid to leave. You’re afraid you will never find someone that will make you feel the way he did. You’re convinced you’ll never love the way you’ve loved him again. You don’t want to.
When A. broke up with me, I was in denial. For about a month after the breakup I would still refer to him as my man. As it was presented to me we were “working things out”, and so that meant he was still my man.
But then he stopped trying. And I got tired of trying alone. And we let go of what I thought was the most special connection I’ve ever had with anyone. And as the days turned into weeks without a word from him I thought, it will get better. But the weeks turned into months and it didn’t. I had no closure, and I needed it. I hate that I just wrote that.
So I called him, hoping to be able to crawl right back into the comfortable space we had. But A. didn’t want to. And as I fought hard to show him that I could fix all his insecurities of love he fought harder to shut me out. He would say things like,
The connection we have is so special, and you are everything to me. I’m sorry that I can’t be everything you need.
And I would come up with ways we could work out. Plead for him to see me. But he wouldn’t.
I can’t handle being with you right now. You drive me crazy. You’re my drug.
But I wasn’t. Addicts can’t control themselves. I would know.