Plz Stop Calling Me – It’s Over

sad chefYou called me crying again last night. You’re sorry for all of this. Your relationships keep failing because you can’t get over me. You’re sick; you might go blind. You don’t want to die without seeing me one more time. You’re clean now. You miss your family. You miss me. Please let’s try one more time.

I find it absolutely nuts that when you and I first broke up, I would have given anything in this world to hear exactly those words. They wouldn’t have been true then either, but back then, I was taking what I could get. Now, they just make me sad.

Yes. I avoid your calls. It isn’t because the memories of all of this hurt me so much. Not entirely, anyways. No. I don’t take your calls because believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you anymore. But you keep forgetting that what was done between us can never be undone. You can’t have the parts of our past back that were so happy because the ending changed us both. Put simply, those people don’t exist anymore.

You get mad because I bring up The Moment of Choice whenever you are able to finally get me on the phone. I don’t remind you out of some warped need for revenge. I remind you cheating-quote-quotesbecause you lose sight sometimes about why all of this is happening to you. We stood, you, me, and Tanya, in our living room, in the little house I had found and fixed up for us, and answered, once and for all, The Question. You had spent months lying to both of us, telling me how you were trying to fix this mess you’d created — telling her I was just a crazy bitch trying to break you two up. So we stood there, the three of us, and I told you, now. Now is when you will pick which path you’re going to head down. You didn’t even think much about it. I remember feeling sick, knowing you weren’t taking me seriously.You pointed to Tanya, and told me you were sorry. She was who you loved. And I told you, then that is the decision we both have to live with now. I walked out of our little house, left everything we’d spent 20 years collecting together, and drove away. It was at that moment, I began the long, hard struggle to cut our bonds to one another. You’d damaged them, but I needed them severed.

Nothing about that moment was light for me. I accepted then that what we had was gone now, relegated to the shadowy mist of memory. You and Tanya’s relationship ended rather quickly after that day, and you spent a few months trying desperately to recapture her interest. I know. I watched. You moved on to Helena, then to others. All the while, you would call me and tell me you wanted me back. And each time I told you, no. You chose a different path.

sad girlYour new girlfriends seem to find it necessary to contact me whenever you guys break up with each other, to put in a good word for you. I can’t begin to tell you how strange and bizarre I find these conversations. That’s just plain creepy. They tell me you will never be happy with anyone but me; they know because they’ve tried. Here’s a news flash — getting back together isn’t an option for you because that would require me being open to the idea, and I’m not.

Please make them stop doing that. I don’t want to hear from your girlfriends. It doesn’t help. I don’t believe it is true that our happiness rests solely on another person; not if we don’t want it to. I can’t take you back. You think things in your life will be fixed if you can just return back to the woman you left in the first place, but you’re wrong. And maybe it is rather selfish of me, but I am not willing to suffer a martyr-like existence in a relationship with you. I am sorry, but you had your chance. Actually, you had a year’s worth of them, and you didn’t choose me then. You only want me now because I think it has actually finally sunk in — I’m gone, and I’m never, ever coming back.

I want you to move on. I hope you find happiness and peace, but not enough to sacrifice mine for yours. You will either bounce back or you won’t. Either way, that’s on you.

Please don’t make me hurt you anymore. I really don’t enjoy it.

~ Bird



Comfortably Numb or Just Plain Selfish? I Guess I Don’t Really Care Either Way

broken heart birdsA week or so ago, I was commenting to my daughter about how short-lived true, unadulterated peace lasts, in my life at least. It isn’t that I don’t actually feel pretty peaceful about life in general normally. I do. But on those rare occasions, I literally have no big problems weighing on me, and that’s the time I’m talking about with Rebekkah. For a time there, I was making enough money to pay ALL of my bills, had a home I love, dogs were happy and healthy, a great friend, a legal driver’s license, love my job, etc. All of this is still true, but Friday, the newest fly came to land in my peace-soaked ointment. Actually, it is a fly that visits my ointments pretty regularly.

Chef called.funny-girl-crying-breakup

I don’t know if it holds true for other ex-wives, but for me, Chef often presents a problem. He is always right on the cusp of something really bad, and my nature is to be a fixer. Even when he was living with the other women, using drugs, and being a complete a$$hole, I would still bail him out of things, give him money, and generally put aside what he was doing to me, to do something good for him.

funny-card-quote-adele-breakupDon’t bother deciding I’m a good person, either. There are a lot of selfish reasons a person can have when they are busy traveling the High Road. For several reasons, I liked that he wasn’t doing all that well without me, or that his girlfriends were turning out to be more of a problem for him than a solution. I felt vindicated every time they would fight about me, which knowing my ex, was a lot of the time. He did the same unfavorable comparisons between me at his exes before me. He only stopped when I stopped being bothered by it.

In 2012, I lived for every phone call, text, or knock on the door from Chef. break-up-quotes_103948386_5In 2013, I both longed for as well as dreaded his efforts to reach out. In 2014, he was more of a frustration dotted with just a hint of feelings of responsibility towards him. I would have to say, though, that 2015 has been all about putting an end to that chapter. Over the course of this year, I’ve teared up a few times over what he once was and what we’ve lost, but I haven’t wept at all this year over Chef. The reason? I’ve moved on.

This time, the impending disasters in his life are pretty much the same ones they always are. Chef’s life, it would seem, has taken a harsh turn for the worse…again. Illness. Homelessness. Loneliness. Regret.

1392460441746815As is our sick custom, he did what he always does. He called me with frightening news about his health, and worked in the other sad circumstances he’s now facing. But, instead of the normal reactions I have tended to have these last few years, I felt…well, almost nothing. To quote Pink Floyd, I felt comfortably numb.

357728-28321-8I seriously am not sure how I feel about this new, almost callous approach to that part of my life. On the one hand, I feel just as peaceful today as I did before he called me Friday. On the other, I am wondering if I’ve officially become a cold b***h. I hope not. I really want Chef to be happy. I don’t want him homeless, or sick, or lonely. The difference is, I just don’t want to be the one to have to make that happen for him. I don’t want to be his home, or take care of him if he is sick, or talk to him so he won’t be lonely. And that makes me feel selfish. Who knows? Maybe I am now.

I only know that when that chapter was closed, it was firmly so. I’m not going backwards. Not anymore. I believe the fly might have actually drowned in the ointment this time. The long road to letting go has been traveled, and no amount of history or memories can bring that path back again.

~ Bird