Monday, September 08, 2008
And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel
I held the phone in my hands. My finger poised over the 'call' button. I knew what I needed to do. But did I have the strength in me to do it?
I told myself that this would get easier each time I did it. I told myself I was saving myself from a whole lot of hurt down the road. I reminded myself of all the reasons that this was what was best for me.
I still choked up as the words, "I don't think we should see each other anymore," left my mouth.
I'm surprised at how upset I am about this. I mean, we've been seeing each other very, very casually for only about month and a half. And I've never been crazy about him, obviously, since I've never written one single word about him. I've mostly continued to see him because, physically, on a scale of 1 to 10, he's an 11 and its been an incredible boost to my ego that this man finds me attractive. And, its been nice to have someone to wake up next to every Sunday morning.
However, the relationship is very clearly not going anywhere, and I have to be true to what I want. And what I do not want is a purely physical relationship. Which is what I told him. He didn't fight or argue or try to get me to change my mind. And that was it. The end. No more Sunday mornings.
I've been beating myself up pretty badly at having even let this relationship last as long as it has, considering all of the reasons why it should have never progressed beyond date one. But I have to admit to being pretty proud of myself for getting out of it now. Before letting it go on for months/years, like I have in previous relationships with all of the same red flags.
There is a poem, that sits in the waiting area of my therapist's office. That has been at the forefront of my mind a lot lately, called An Autobiography in 5 Short Paragraphs by Portia Nelson.
1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
2. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in. I can't believe I'm in the same place, but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
3. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
4. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
5. I walk down a different street.
I am at 3. I can't wait to be at 5.
Today's title from: The Fear You Won't Fall by Joshua Radin
I told myself that this would get easier each time I did it. I told myself I was saving myself from a whole lot of hurt down the road. I reminded myself of all the reasons that this was what was best for me.
I still choked up as the words, "I don't think we should see each other anymore," left my mouth.
I'm surprised at how upset I am about this. I mean, we've been seeing each other very, very casually for only about month and a half. And I've never been crazy about him, obviously, since I've never written one single word about him. I've mostly continued to see him because, physically, on a scale of 1 to 10, he's an 11 and its been an incredible boost to my ego that this man finds me attractive. And, its been nice to have someone to wake up next to every Sunday morning.
However, the relationship is very clearly not going anywhere, and I have to be true to what I want. And what I do not want is a purely physical relationship. Which is what I told him. He didn't fight or argue or try to get me to change my mind. And that was it. The end. No more Sunday mornings.
I've been beating myself up pretty badly at having even let this relationship last as long as it has, considering all of the reasons why it should have never progressed beyond date one. But I have to admit to being pretty proud of myself for getting out of it now. Before letting it go on for months/years, like I have in previous relationships with all of the same red flags.
There is a poem, that sits in the waiting area of my therapist's office. That has been at the forefront of my mind a lot lately, called An Autobiography in 5 Short Paragraphs by Portia Nelson.
1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
2. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in. I can't believe I'm in the same place, but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
3. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
4. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
5. I walk down a different street.
I am at 3. I can't wait to be at 5.
Today's title from: The Fear You Won't Fall by Joshua Radin
Labels: Mr. 11
Posted by Chloe
at 10:24 PM |
Permalink to And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel |
7 Comments |
