Anyone that has ever hunted someone down for the truth knows that it never ends well. People do not disappear because they love you and are “maybe” to busy to see or talk to you, nor do they vanish because they’re scared and afraid of commitment. I knew this. I’ve dated for a decade and have seen “He’s Just Not That Into You.” I knew that if I was going to hunt this person down to find out what happened (in my case via an email. I’m such a bada**), I was going to have to be ready to hear the personal and potentially attacking truth in whatever form it was going to take. However, as Albert Einstein said, “In the middle of difficulty, lies opportunity.”
This situation was now about me and doing what I felt was going to be best FOR ME. He left. I was not taking his feelings into account. I was not doing this for him. I was doing this for me, because as I saw it, he surrendered his opportunity for me to care about how he felt the minute he walked away.
However, as much as I talked the big talk about being ready to hear what it was that he had to say, there was also a part of me that wished someone would have dropped me into “A Few Good Men” just so I could have had Jack Nicholson scold me about how, “YOU CAN”T HANDLE THE TRUTH.” Because as much as I wanted to believe I could, that I could handle the truth that I seek, saying is completely different than well..handling it.
Months went by. Call it intuition, instinct or sheer common sense, but I left our last time together knowing that something wasn’t right. (It also might have been that one telling mistake where he sent me a text that was supposed to be for another girl he just met to me! (Don’t you just hate that when you’re phone texts the wrong people? It happens to me all the time!)) And during those months I stewed more than any one person should ever stew about anyone. Why didn’t I contact him sooner? I don’t know. I don’t know why I waited, but I think part of it was utter disbelief. I couldn’t wrap my head around this whole situation and who exactly this person, who I was forced to be in this situation with, was. Who did I know for fourteen years? Who is this person that is treating me like this? I was in mourning for him, for us, what could have been, and for what we had. I felt like I lost everything, most importantly, my best friend. I talked about it all the time to anyone who would listen until the new year hit. It was time for me to wrap up my troubles and start fresh once and for all. So I emailed. I emailed him about how I tried not caring, but that I still couldn’t shake what happened between us. He sent some type of obscure, “I don’t know,” but did agree to meet me. In his words, He said,
“All those years I felt something for you, but actually being with you didn’t live up to my expectations. I wasn’t feeling how I felt I should feel. You know how you really want that piece of cake and then you get it and you realize that you just don’t want it anymore?”
I’m not kidding. Fourteen years of friendship and he compared me to a slice of cake (and not in a good way where he was making a comparison between a delectable, delicious dessert and me being also delectable and delicious). However, I promised in the very beginning that this was not going to be a vicious blog, but that line….
I then asked “S*, “Are you a coward?”
He said, “I guess I am. I couldn’t face you.”
And it didn’t end there. I listened and waited… and waited… and waited. I waited for that moment when he was going to try to make me feel better. I waited for that moment when he was going to grab my hand, the hand of a friend that he’s known longer than almost anyone and say, “Jen, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but it did and I can’t change it.”
I waited for him to try and ease this awful conversation that I was forced to be apart of. I waited for him to build me up now that that he demolished all the self confidence that was currently holding me up. But it never came. He went on until I suddenly started panicking like one does in a hanging elevator. I couldn’t be in this place with him any longer. I couldn’t listen to this. I couldn’t sit by this stranger.
“I have to go. I have to go right now and I think you should pay for my drink!”
He looked at me and said, “We’ll hang out?”
And I walked away.