Here’s the abstract:
I realized that I couldn’t be in his life anymore because it did me no good. – End Abstract –
I hope this will be the last time I mention my ex boyfriend as it pertains to my love life, now and in the future. For the sake of keeping my privacy on certain matters, I never really discussed much about the ins and outs of my relationship. I’ve posted here and there, but nothing too deep, I don’t think. Sadly, the last time I wrote about my ex, I wrote a 5 part series on how we met.
Shortly after those posts went up, my relationship with him was over. I felt it was an amicable decision, but the tether between us was strong, and it never felt like we broke up. The reason we ended was clear: we were on different paths, and at that time, we couldn’t find a way to include each other happily. It was hard to accept. Our relationship would’ve gotten worse if we stayed together at that point. As long as he was unsure of himself and his sexuality, and whatever other demons he had, I’d always feel like I was either holding him back or holding myself back.
I know now, moving forward, any guy lucky enough to date me will have to know who he is fully. He has to accept his attraction to males and not be ashamed. It’s just with my ex, the little improvements we made as a couple kept me holding on to hope that we could make it. That hope continued to shrink over time, but I still held on to it. My love for him had me in a place where I’d wait for years for him to come around, but life is short, and time is precious.
I believed in him. I believed in us. No one could tell me different because I knew that our love would trump our fears, but sometimes you have to let things be and see things for what they are.
Otherwise, I’d find myself in another conundrum of holding potential partners’ hands through their journey to acceptance. Since I’ve done that already, I don’t want to do that again. With my ex, I believed in him so much. I believed that he could accept himself enough so that we could advance to the next level of our relationship, but you can’t lead a horse to water and expect him to drink, especially if he’s not thirsty enough.
Even after the initial breakup, we still behaved like a couple. Christmas, he brought me cookies he had baked as a gift to me. We kissed. New Year’s Eve, I texted him to see if he wanted to have sex before the new year began, but he rebuffed my offer – I felt like shit. January, he took me out for a nice breakfast for my birthday. Valentine’s day, he took me out to the movies “as friends.”
During this whole period, he had my apartment key. He had planned on giving me my key back on V-day – horrible idea. Eventually, he gave me my key back some days later, but somehow, I ended up putting the key back in his jacket pocket one night when we hugged. That key plays an important part in all of this. Oh yeah, he gave me a massage, and he kissed me too. Also, throw in a jo session. I know, I know.
Things never felt final. I knew that once I ended up working for him on a project back in April. He became my boss because he knew my finances were weak, and at that time, I couldn’t be too proud to decline a job offer. Thinking back on it, it may have not been a good idea. Prior to working for him, I sent him a late night message asking him to forget about me.
At the time, I felt like I failed and gave up everything that was working for me in my life. I quit my job, and after a few issues with my ex, I finally gave up on that, so I told him to give up on me, but he refused. I tried the best I could to leave him alone, but then that damn job offer came. And while working for him, he acted as if everything was fine, but for me, I was bitter. To me, he acted as if our relationship had no impact on him. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
After this job, we somehow ended up back in connection with one another. When May came, so did some unresolved feelings, mixed with brown liquor and sangria. Everything I ever wanted to say to him, I did. I released all my hurt onto him so that he could hear me loud and clear. This resulted in two weeks of silence, then finally, an Email.
We’ve been down this road before – exchanging emails and letters. He’s not good with verbalizing his feelings, so I knew this was the best way for him to communicate, but I just wanted to talk. We did. We cried, we hugged, and we kissed. I finally told him that I wanted him in my life as my man or not at all. All he had to do was give me back my apartment key to tell me everything I needed to know, and he did. It hurt, but I knew he just wasn’t ready, and I was tired.
But, that wasn’t enough.
We both decided to have one more night of “closure,” but that turned into a 2nd night of closure, followed by hugs, his head resting on my shoulder after bike riding through Piedmont park, and finally, me planning a birthday dinner for him this past July. I told him that if all this going on between was becoming too much to let me know so that I could finally leave him alone.
I finally got the answers I needed after that. Hey, at least he was honest, right?
None of this has been easy to get over, and I know it will take me some time, but I do see how things could’ve been better; however, I also realize that as long as he had his underlying issues, I’d take them personally as if I did everything wrong. I guess my patience was growing short, and after a while, I didn’t even know what I wanted from him anymore, but I tried to salvage it. I know now, that’s not my job. He made a choice – to love me right or not at all.
I just know that I’ve been hurting myself over it, and I’m learning to cope with it better.
Maybe by letting all of this out, and possibly getting some of you all’s opinions, I can move forward and not look back so much, hoping that he can get his shit together. By no means is this a post to blast him, but should he read this, hopefully he’ll take it in and maybe apply to the next person he chooses to love. Sadly, I still wish that person was me, but I can’t worry about that anymore.