It’s pervasive in our society: “Oh, he cheated on her because she wouldn’t give him oral anymore and the new girl would.” “He left after the love died when they had 3 kids and he couldn’t be bothered to help her with parental duties so she had to take on the responsibility of all 3 kids and then he got offended that she stopped having sex with him because she was so drained at the end of the day.” “She got old so he left.”That being said, I have done nothing to warrant boredom.
And then one day he just keels over and dies, and you bow your head and say “he lived a long, good life, but it was his time.”But fuck it, I wanted to crack his chest open too.
The world laughs at you when you only date one person.
I’m far from perfect, but I’m not some bland blob with no personality. And also, what if we stay together and move in and get married and have kids and pay bills? All these memories I have of us being happy are from over a year ago.
Not that it matters, but the sex has always been consistently awesome between us as well. If he treats me so coldly now that we have no shared responsibilities, how will he treat me after all that? Most people would think that the issue between us is the distance, and maybe the fact that we’ve been together for 7 years. But I do also know plenty of couples who at least act like they’re still interested in each other after marriage and kids and decades together, and long distance couples who compensate for the distance by at least making sure they tell each other “I love you” once a day by text if they’re both too busy to talk. The last time he called me “beautiful” was months ago. I tell him I feel unappreciated and worthless and I can’t go on feeling like this. Is this because he’s found everything he needs up here and I’m just down in LA, an afterthought?
Most of the time it didn’t work, but when it did, it was enough to keep us going for the next hundred last ditch efforts.
I thought a lot about this while driving the 400 miles to my boyfriend’s school in Northern California.
I’m also going to have to accept the thought of him with someone else: sitting in her car singing his favorite songs, eating with her at restaurants where we used to eat, holding her and kissing her and loving her. And the truth is I’m never going to love like this again. So I buy a breakfast sandwich at the crack of dawn and embark on a six hour journey to get my heart broken in person.
Him treating her better than he ever treated me because she’ll be shiny and new to him. Fear of both of us dating other people shouldn’t be the reason I stay in an unhappy relationship. I might love in a different way, in a better way, but I will never have a first love again. And it feels like it took half my body along with it. There’s the kind of breakup that happens in terrible dramatic bursts, plates smashed, names called, horrible things said. But then there’s the kind of breakup where one person strips their skin and lays their soul out on the floor, and the other quietly steps all over it and doesn’t even notice.“I love you,” he says, monotone, while I stare at him with my arms crossed. I let him know he’s been emotionally unavailable and distant for months now. I tell him the simple things I want, extremely simple easy things he can’t find it in himself to do: to text me at least just a couple times a week to check in and catch up, to help me plan occasional trips up north (not more than once an academic quarter) so we can see each other more than just for 5 days every 60 days, to tell me he’s thinking of me and he misses me and he misses my brain and my body and some bullshit about my eyes sparkling. It stings to know he puts more effort into his run of the mill friendships than he does into a relationship with me, and it hurts even worse that he’ll readily admit to that but do nothing to fix it.
Paramedics had been doing CPR for over an hour, or the patient had been found down with no indication of how long they’d been without a pulse, or they’d have an injury that seemed far too traumatic to survive.
So we’d roll up our sleeves and try a Hail Mary, which sometimes involved cracking the patient’s chest open and the trauma surgeon massaging the patient’s heart back to life.
At the ER there were patients who seemed to be in perfectly good health until they encountered the big thing that killed them, like a gunshot wound or a car accident.