my dear love nick green posted a really excellent blog post about playing hard to get and it made me think instantly of a recent series of breakups-well, sort of breakups because you can't really "breakup" when there isn't anything to break up but it's still the end of a "relationship" so breakup really seems like the best word and it's all just really confusing and at the end of the day you really know it's all for the best and that your life will be better without these people in it and yeah that sounds selfish but whatever i gotta look out for number one and yes i did say people rather than person don't judge me monogamy is a social contract and not a given...
so yeah, we broke up.
anywho, the thing that i find so interesting about these breakups is that i am in no way sad about them but when they go unacknowledged i feel sort of put out and then i get sad about the breakup. is it the breakup or the acknowledgement of the breakup that makes it real when it wasn't particularly real to begin with?
(am i writing an episode of sex and the city here?)
an example: brad* and i have known each other for a little shy of two years. we met online a bit before i left calgary and weren't able to ever actually meet up. i've obviously been in calgary a number of times since then and for whatever reason we still haven't managed to cross paths. we were both pretty stoked at the idea of my being in this fair-ish city for a couple months and had a standing date for coffee**. 20 months is, afterall, a long time for just texting. but here's the thing about brad, i actually have no memory of what he looks like and no concept of who he really is a person and i've never known his last name. this may all seem sort of silly but for these and a host of other reasons*** i decided not to see him. and whatever, that happened and i am not sad about it.
but here's the thing, i got sad because he didn't write me back. we want a fight don't we? someone to tell us to fuck off or make us feel guilty or beg us for something more, beg us to hang on to them... it feels weird to just toss it out into the ether and get back... silence. maybe that silence speaks louder than any response but i wanted a response. i wanted a fight. or at least i wanted brad to tell me to go fuck myself... or something.
maybe i just don't know what the fuck i want.
*i picked brad because then i can pretend that i broke up with brad pitt.
** and other such things.
*** none of your goddamn business