Break-ups
On the day of my first real break-up, I went to a tea party for local people who had applied to Smith College. I wore a little skirt and didn't really cry. I was ready for sexual liberation. I tried on a corset and let a man spank me in his old car in a parking lot. My mother sometimes asks me what I did as a teenager that she does not know about, but I do not think she would be surprised by this one. We are all eighteen at some point.
In the next significant relationship, there were two break-ups. All I remember about the first was him trying to slash my tires and me yelling, "suck a dog dick" out the window at him. He never spoke to me again, so I infiltrated his online chat group and pretended to be named Robin. The second time we dated I broke up with him when he told me he was seeing a 17-year-old. He was 23.
In the aftermath of that relationship, I immediately started dating a man who was horribly swept up in my psyche of that era. He wouldn't want me to talk to him, but I wish I could apologize. When he broke up with me, I was devastated for weeks. I asked him to have a conversation with me. I told him I could've loved him and he told me his friends said he seemed much happier without me. I have no doubt about that. I shouldn't have been dating.
This time around I know I made the right decision. No one deserves a relationship with someone they cannot trust not to disappear at random. No one deserves someone who says they're not sure they can love you with their whole heart and then continues to date you for three more months in a half-assed manner because you were too loving to let them fuck off. It was a lot like waiting for my dog to die. I feared it for years and by the time it happened I was relieved. And I came home to her absence and I cried. But I was glad we were all cut loose.
In the next significant relationship, there were two break-ups. All I remember about the first was him trying to slash my tires and me yelling, "suck a dog dick" out the window at him. He never spoke to me again, so I infiltrated his online chat group and pretended to be named Robin. The second time we dated I broke up with him when he told me he was seeing a 17-year-old. He was 23.
In the aftermath of that relationship, I immediately started dating a man who was horribly swept up in my psyche of that era. He wouldn't want me to talk to him, but I wish I could apologize. When he broke up with me, I was devastated for weeks. I asked him to have a conversation with me. I told him I could've loved him and he told me his friends said he seemed much happier without me. I have no doubt about that. I shouldn't have been dating.
This time around I know I made the right decision. No one deserves a relationship with someone they cannot trust not to disappear at random. No one deserves someone who says they're not sure they can love you with their whole heart and then continues to date you for three more months in a half-assed manner because you were too loving to let them fuck off. It was a lot like waiting for my dog to die. I feared it for years and by the time it happened I was relieved. And I came home to her absence and I cried. But I was glad we were all cut loose.