Monday, November 22, 2010

to make a very long story short

I ended things with Gatsby. Me. I did it.

I sat there in his car, after an hour of intense eye contact over injera and honey wine, and listened to yet another "I'm just not sure I can shoulder the responsibility of a relationship right now" speech.

(as visions of G.I.Q. danced in my head)

Responsibility. To answer for oneself. Golly gosh by goodness, what a burden, I thought.

You know, I'm tired, I said. I deserve someone who can be sure about me, without audition or condition. So we should just be friends.

Maybe it was reverse psychology. Advanced Maneuvers for the Captain of Industry 101: Getting Her to Let You Go. Or maybe it was merely my nascent backbone, tuned like a radio antennae to the wisest counsel of my patient, patient friends.

Either way, I have been dancing the sadness out through my tired legs, hour after midnight hour. Keeping open the tiny birdhouse in my heart for the someday love of someone worth loving.


Anonymous said...

Wise woman. Stay open and you'll find someone for whom loving you is neither a burden nor too big of a responsibility. It'll be sheer joy and delight at the prospect that you might love them back.

These guys are old and un-tethered for a reason.

Anonymous said...

Not exactly sure refresh me on (GIQ), congratulations on Gatsby.

Phoenix said...

I know you're probably feeling sad right now, so you probably don't feel like celebrating what an incredible victory this is. But dammit, it is one. Walking away from boys when you yourself are a woman is probably the smartest thing any female can do. So I promise that the rightness of this decision will come in time, and celebration will be in order.

Bathwater said...

"Not ready for the responsibility of a relationship." I'm glad you HEARD his words and accepted that this isn't what you wanted from someone else. It sounds rather selfish to me.