07 December 2010

The Greatest Hits... So Far

I was alone in dumped-ville for almost two weeks. I barely talked to Jesse. It was a time for family. And aside from a random message or two, he didn't say anything to me. I thought time facing mortality could possibly change his mind. I did mention that eternally springing hope right? In the meantime, I convinced myself of what really mattered, which was that he and I were good together and worth another shot. I talked myself into believing he too was coming to the same realization, that time spent with loved ones reminded him of us in happy times. By the time he came back to San Francisco, I was ready to resume relationship negotiations.

The lesson: never doubt the power of a delusional mind.

I ambushed him with what I can now see as apparent neuroses. I asked him if he was ready to talk about things. I asked him if time had made things better in his mind. I asked questions that dripped with hope and reeked of self-deception. He recommended I see a therapist. My desire to save my relationship (because apparently it had never truly been ours) was, to him, akin to lunacy. I cried. And I called my mom, who was waiting with her own unwelcome truth.

What I had (up to that point) fail to grasp was that Jesse had been done with me weeks before he decided to tell me. My mom explained we were in different places. He wasn't sad to see us split, he was sad to see me sad. It's not at all the same. I was even more alone. I was not one of two people going through a break up. I was one person learning of a break up weeks after being emotionally dumped. That's an ugly reality to face. And know what? It got worse.

My mom told my dad, as my parents are wont to do. And my dad called me. After verifying I was at work, my dad reminded me that he had already told me not to ask Jesse if he had reconsidered. I told him I did what I wanted to do. My dad came back with a "how did that work out for you?" Seriously. It was as low as I can ever remember feeling. I was delay-dumped and my dad called to say "see? I told you he didn't want you." My dad called me at work to say "how do you think that makes you look," because pride mattered. I was furious. But it was the push I needed to listen to my brother (of all people), who came with the best advice for the moment. I turned off my phone.

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