We Are Never, Ever, Ever Getting Back Together

Last week, I received something in the mail.  Inside of a plain white envelope was half of a dollar bill with the word "NTURE" written on it.  It was sent by itself and without any explanation.  

But it didn't need any explanation.  I knew exactly what it was: It was the second half of a dollar bill whose mate sits inside my own wallet, given to me as a gift a few months ago by one of the most thoughtful men I ever knew.  And this wasn't the usual run of the mill half dollars that I give out to special people (for further explanation, see the Tradition of the Half Dollar).   This dollar was even more special; It was the first dollar that was ever separated and given *to* me; a touching gesture which at the time, melted my heart. My half was sent to me back in May with a beautifully written letter and some optimistic words to kick off the summer since he and I would be separated due to extensive travel plans.  But as summer drew to a close, and some unpleasant realizations were made, even with the most valiant effort, the relationship, like so many other good things, came to an end.   We left on good terms and agreed to be friends.  

Then last week, I received the other half of the dollar in the mail; the half in which he had been holding onto.  It seemed childish, extremely passive aggressive, and a bit of a slap across the face.  I toyed with the idea of calling him and demanding an explanation.  But I decided that I wouldn't dignify his actions with an angry phone call call.  Furthermore, calling would just make things worse and reopen old wounds that still needed to heal.

Besides, no explanation was needed because the action was loud and clear: After all the back and forth of the past few years, all the break ups and the makeups, it was finally and truly over.

It was a somber realization. 

So this morning, as I got ready for the day, I caught a glimpse of the dollar on my desk.  

It stung a little.  

I thought back to the day I first told him about the dollar tradition.  We had spent the day on the beach; surfing, laughing, and talking for hours.  It was the first time, in a long time, that I had really started to feel my wall come down..  I allowed him to romance me, and while I was certainly taking my time to truly open up, his actions had started to make me believe that maybe, something between us could really work out.  I had been denying it for so long, and for all his flaws, he was a good guy who sure seemed to like me.  He was my Aidan;  a man who offered me the world, not once, but twice, and tried his best to tear down my wall and fill my heart with love.    

Yet I still was on the fence about things. He was a great guy; he had an incredible sense of adventure, was intelligent, educated, and kind. He was also a bit of a romantic.  He was tall, handsome, and strong.  He was the kind of guy any girl would love to have.

And yet for some reason, I still couldn't open up my heart to him, for reasons I'm still trying to figure out.  Since my devastatingly earth shattering break up about five years ago, I had only truly put my heart on the line twice.   Those two men were the only ones who I had fully opened up my heart to... and to whom I offered it point blank.

Neither situation worked out too well.  Needless to say, the experiences succeeded in strengthening my wall, and making me a bit more closed off.

This time, there would be no love, no romance, and certainly no going all in.  All I wanted was to have a casual relationship... I wanted to "date" him.  Don't get me wrong, I liked him a lot, but that's as far as I would let it go.  I learned my lessons from the last relationship I was in, and I wasn't about to make the same mistakes with this one.  In hindsight, this was probably this reason that he liked me so much.. I wasn't the usual lovey-dovey, clingy, romantic sap I usually am in relationships.  I was cool, calculated, closed off, and distant.  I wouldn't give my heart to him.

No wonder he tried so hard. 

We had been singing the same song for the last few years; this was not our first rodeo.  It was in fact, the third time that we had attempted "a relationship".   Every time we "broke up", we would take a break from each other for awhile but then somehow, he would find his way back into my life, and we would pick up where we left off.  

And this last time, it had been complicated.  There was a lot of back and forth for about six months., and it had been a slow process.  We started spending a lot of time together which I was fine with, but I didn't want an exclusive relationship.  He wanted to make it official.  He gave me an ultimatum, I inadvertently failed to comply, and he ended it.  He told me he deserved better.

I agreed.   

Yet about a week later, we were back hanging out, and having a blast per usual.  He was showing up at my apartment with my favorite pizza when I had a bad day.  We acted like nothing had changed.

For the record, I really did like him. He was so fun, and I loved spending time with him.  I really was trying to make it work; trying to look past the "flaws" and remember that no one could ever fit the standard I had built up in my head.  I tried to stop comparing him to the last man who stole my heart. I tried to not be so picky, and turn a blind eye to any red flags I saw.  I really tried to give it a chance.  

But I just wasn't completely sold. It wasn't enough. There was something missing; that X Factor… That "je ne sais quoi".  My friends wondered what was wrong with me.  I even wondered what was wrong with me.  This guy was great.  Why was I so blocked off from him?

I blamed my past relationships.  I blamed the fact that I still wasn't over my last love.  I blamed our "mediocre chemistry", and I blamed my indifference on the fact that he was "too nice".  He never challenged me, always agreed with whatever I said, and did whatever he thought I wanted.  I even blamed my crazy job and inconsistent schedule for my inability to "commit".  

Still he persisted.  

And after a very tenacious courtship, I started to submit.  Maybe I was being too picky.  Maybe he was actually quite perfect for me.  I did like him, so why was I being so hesitant?  I tried to breathe and go with the flow. 

Then it came time for me to leave town for the summer.  We had a long talk about it and decided to keep things casual and open.  No promises, no commitments, and no games.

It was two days before I left town when I received his sweet letter and half dollar (the first half) in the mail. The word he wrote on it was "Adventure", and in his letter, he eloquently spoke about our past, present, and future.  He wished me well and I was truly touched.  He was playing it right; letting me go, and not holding on too tightly.  I safely placed the dollar in my wallet and off I went.

Throughout the summer we stayed in contact; not too often, but often enough.  He was careful not to ask what I had been doing, and I did the same.  I thought to myself, this is the perfect relationship; long distance can work…. the key is to have distance and space.  I was so happy with the arrangement:  I could still talk to him once in awhile (like I said, I really did enjoy his company), but I didn't have to deal with the whole "exclusive" element.  The space allowed me to "miss" him, and I was able to maintain my independence and my own life, something I had learned was extremely important in any relationship.   

We even planned a trip together for the fall.  He was working out of town for a few months, and asked me to come visit.  

It seemed like things were coming together. 

But while yes, I had certainly softened up a bit, my strong wall was still up.  I hadn't yet entered into the whole "in love" and "romantic" world I usually do when I become really interested in someone.    But I couldn't decipher whether it was because I had become a little jaded, or if I just wasn't interested in him enough.  The thought made me very uneasy.

But I decided to plan the trip, go visit him, and see what would transpire.  After all, I've always prided myself on my ability to blindly take risks.  Why was I stopping now?

Then one afternoon, while I was playing cards with my 88 year old neighbor, the old man called something to my attention, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  I wasn't going to visit him for the right reasons.  There was another very specific reason; And it was both manipulative and unfair.   

But instead of just coming up with a kind excuse, like "I can't, I have to work", I told him the truth. At first, he said he understood, and kept his offer on the table.  "Just come here, and let's have a great time.  Whatever happens, happens."

A few days later, he changed his mind.  

And with one phone call, it was over.  

I had successfully sabotaged the relationship… I pushed him to end it, just like I always do, because I couldn't do it myself.  

It was a Friday night.  I didn't cry.  I didn't feel devastated.  I felt a little sad, but due to to a crazy schedule, I was distracted from any pain that should have been there.  

I chalked it up to "not meant to be", shoved down any emotion I felt, and moved myself forward.  

But that doesn't mean there isn't a part of me that misses him a little... He's a great guy who deserves someone who can give him everything he wants; someone who can open her heart up and welcome him in.  But the truth remains, I have only done that for three men in my whole life... And he just wasn't one of them.  

Maybe my faith is too broken at this point. Maybe my aged cynicism has taken over my youthful romantic belief system.  Maybe I'm still not truly over my last love, or maybe I'm just more closed off than I used to be.

Or maybe he really was the right guy for me, but I am so jaded at this point that I couldn't see it.   Maybe it was just bad timing.  Maybe in a month, I will wake up and feel great regret for what happened.  I don't know. Maybe I'll never know.

But this morning, as I stared at the dollar on my desk, another unpleasant realization hit me: 

In his mind, we are never, ever, ever getting back together.    

I'd even put money on it - a whole dollar bill.