Dec 162011
 

So, as is stunningly obvious, I’ve been avoiding J, both in “real life,” and here on the blog. I haven’t mentioned him on the blog because there hasn’t been much to say — I’ve been relatively successful at putting some distance between us. My panties — for anyone keeping track — have been firmly in place for a while now.

I have (had?) decided to let things die with J (for a variety of reasons, including the hotel incident, never naked, and a possible new boy). In relationships, I’m not the type to “talk it over” or try to rescue what appears to be hopeless. J hasn’t been hopeless, exactly, but it’s felt like too much trouble this early on. Maybe “early on” isn’t entirely true, as we’ve been seeing each other for a while now–since March, or thereabouts, which makes it almost nine months that we’ve been doing whatever-this-is.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve felt some disconnect with him and I’m not sure it’s worth figuring out or working on. In my experience, figuring things out often leads to fighting and working on relationships often leads to drama. I don’t like fighting or drama, and so typically, I don’t ‘do’ actual breakups. History suggests that my modus operandi is to allow relationships to fizzle out — to allow the mildly uncomfortable withering that persists until the relationship finally fractures, fragments, and evaporates into the ether. I don’t fight the inevitable. After all, every relationship ends in one way or another, right?

I was nearly decided that I would let it go. Generally, I want no extraordinary relationship-saving measures, no life-support, and no futile attempts at resuscitation. After I decide that a relationship is essentially over, I pull the plug (mentally), leave it swinging free, and walk away before the ink on the DNR is dry. I don’t threaten to leave to get attention, I don’t break up and make up, and I don’t generally attempt to “work things out” — working things out seems too much like trying to change a person or trying to change myself. I don’t mind compromise and negotiation, but changing myself and/or others isn’t what I want. And so, my mind was made up (or at least, my head was quiet, which is equivalent to decisiveness for me).

Then J called.

Despite all of my faith in letting things die naturally, my want to avoid kicking dead horses, my drama-allergy, and my seeming lack of ambition in trying to “fix” whatever might be “broken”… I agreed to meet him for lunch later today.

I know it’s only lunch, but in light of the mental gymnastics it’s taken me to arrive as some sort of decision about moving on, agreeing to see him feels so much more important than just meeting for lunch. It feels like I’m already second guessing — perhaps even undermining — my almost-but-not-quite-firm decision to move along.

Maybe I’m not ready for a relationship-type relationship, but maybe I’m not ready to let him go either.

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