random thoughts & scrawls

03.29.22

In our beginning, I found myself repeating the mantra that we would work out. That we had to work out. That it was just never right before, but we were both finally okay enough to fall into each other's arms like we jested about years prior. It was probably the best wool I had ever pulled over my eyes.
I think what made us fail was telling ourselves we could make it work no matter what. That's not how a relationship operates—that's not what true love does. But, we were simply in love with the idea of our love. Same job, same house, same everything. It made sense.
What never made sense was whenever one of us aired a grievance, the other simply didn't seem to care. Things would change for a few days, sometimes a couple weeks, but it would always revert. Me, constantly prying for your attention. You, practically begging to stay independently occupied. The hurt never seemed to stay away.
So when it took me two weeks to tell you I thought we just needed space, we both knew where we were headed. So much so, that when we discussed it, we agreed not to break up in the moment but if we made it there that we would not loathe each other. That we were adults, and we could act like it.
I suppose the joke there is that it was practically a break-up anyway. So, just days later, once you moved all your things out to see if we could "make it work" with you living away from me, we spoke on the phone for a few minutes before silence fell upon us.
"This is weird... isn't it?"
"Yeah... yeah it is."
And that was it. Our break-up. Simple, kind, almost too easy. We were never molded for each other, we just wanted to believe it so badly that we forced it.
It's strange, having your position in my life just about the same as it was years ago. There, but not really.
And that's how it's always going to be.