"Well maybe it's me
And my blind optimism to blame
Maybe it's you and your sick need
To give love then take it away
And you'll add my name to your
Long list of people who don't understand
And I'll look back and regret
I ignored when they said
Run as fast as you can"
The hardest part of being wrong is knowing you are wrong. When the claim to ignorance is taken away, it really makes every situation much bleaker. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I should have left him in early December when I got the email from the woman he was cheating on me with. Sparing the rationalizing details of why I asked to keep a farce up through the holidays and pretend to stay together, and then actually remain is lessening states of a relationship, I ultimately didn't walk away. Like a fool.
So, the moment of clarity came for me tonight. I went over to his house because he wanted to make us dinner and spend some time together, and even though I have a project due tomorrow for class, I packed my school work up and resigned to finish it at his house so we could at least spend some time together. I drive 25 minutes to his house, where he won't even make the effort to get up from his video game to answer the door much less give me a hug, instead yelling through the window that the door was unlocked and to come on up. I sit on the bed for 10 minutes while he is on speaker phone with his buddy playing this game, and I go to the bathroom and stare in the mirror and ask myself, "Really? You are doing all this for a guy who won't even get up to acknowledge your presence? Seriously, you don't think you deserve better?" And, I looked back at myself and thought for the first time in months, "I so fucking deserve better than this."
After some shouting back and forth, and to the mutual declarations that neither of us "needed this shit" and "have a nice life," I left. As I was driving home, I actually started to think about the ramifications of never seeing him again. I texted my BFF that it was probably finally over (much to her delight), and as I showered, I thought of possible responses I might need to give to any texts or emails he might send me.
It feels over. And I think (and hope) that I'm finally okay with that.