It’s been exactly one week since Date #7 walked me to my car, wrapped his arms around me and told me—for the umpteenth time—that I was making a terrible mistake. As such, I suppose it’s about time for me to finally stop dragging my mud-caked heals over the chronicling of his brother’s wedding and get to the point: How the hell did it end?
I’m tempted to fall back upon the “relationship status” parlance that my generation—the Facebook generation— has come to accept as… well, acceptable and leave you with a trite “it’s complicated,” but really, it’s not.
It’s quite simple.
Long distance relationships require three things: trust, communication and a more or less steady supply of simple-yet-thoughtful gestures to remind your significant other that you’re thinking about them, even though you’re not with them.
Date #7 and I don’t have these things. I’m confident that we could work towards them—he’s not stupid, and I could do with a bit of “personal growth” myself—but right now, considering how seldom we see each other (and how irritated I get when we do), the work doesn’t seem worth the reward.
Will this change someday?
Will I come to regret my “terrible mistake?”
Quite possibly, but in the meantime, I can’t keep doing this to myself.
I’ve written and re-written today’s post about a dozen times because I know Date #7 is reading, and The Wedding Date is reading and now, evidently, even Date #7’s mother is reading (yikes! By which I of course mean “Hello,” and thank you again for the box of cookies; they were greatly enjoyed).
I feel I owe everyone (including all of you) a proper explanation but here’s the thing about being a writer: the story (and its outcome) changes every time I tell it.
I could tell you that dancing with Date #7 gave me a glimmer of hope.
Or I could tell you that said glimmer seemed (to me) a classic case of too little, too late (I’ve been ignoring his texts messages since the wedding and have stopped returning his calls).
I could tell you that I’m going out with The Wedding Date next Friday and that I can’t wait to see him.
Or, instead, I could tell you that I’m beginning to wonder if I will always cut and run whenever the going gets tough (I have, after all, broken up with every man I’ve even been with).
Take your pick— all of the above are true.