The goodbye letter...

________,

I walked into grad school thinking, hoping I would find someone who was worth finding. Someone who was interested in the same things I was, someone who would treat me with respect, and someone who would challenge me. Mostly though, I was hoping to find someone to love me. That’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? To love and to be loved? It’s the greatest, most elusive quest in life. I strive for it every day.

I thought maybe I’d walk out of grad school with a happy ending—it didn’t happen that way. But I’m realizing now that I don’t want to fast forward to the endings, but to remain happily in the middle of my life…at least for now. And in that middle, I’m finding a multitude of things: new friends, new feelings, new hurts, and new versions of myself. Maybe that’s the beauty of that thing they call living, learning, and growing up. Where some might get upset or depressed because we’re no longer in high school or in college or what have you, I cherish each new day and experience—good or bad.

I’ve known you for just about two and a half years now, and in the time I’ve known you, it seems like you’ve been struggling with the same issue. That is a long time to be struggling with one thing. And I realize I haven’t been as involved in your life as I was at the start of all this, so I could be completely off base. If that is the case, forgive me and forget I ever opened my mouth, but I have some things to say.

You and me, whatever it was or is or has become, I think at one point we understood each other. We had a connection, a real one. The kind where you look at the other person and know what they’re thinking or what they want to tell you. The kind where you want to share every story immediately after it happens, however big or small. The kind where you can spend an entire day together doing nothing, but still feel totally entertained. That is the kind of connection I live for, and connections like that don’t come around every day. So, again, please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but I think I’ve held my tongue long enough. And I think I’ve earned a right to speak.

I’ve had this story that I wanted to tell you for, oh I don’t know, several months. But the “right” time has never arisen. I could never really figure out a way to insert this into conversation: “Hey, by the way, I think you might be making a mistake with Girlfriend.” No matter which way you slice it, I look like a shit head. Either I look like I’m trying to weasel my way into your life by taking a cheap shot at your relationship, or I look like the unsupportive friend, or I just look desperate. My motivation is so far from all of those things, and I hope you can see that. Like I said, at one point we “got” each other, so my hope is that you can see past the initial sliminess of this letter to my true intentions—my closure and your happiness.

When I started working, we had just finished my dance show, we were starting to run together, and we were trying, ever so desperately, to remain friends despite Her being uncomfortable with it. I began to understand her, you know, but tried not to admit it, because that meant losing you. She had a point—even though we were preaching righteous, platonic friendship, the essential point was that you were willing to discard her feelings to protect mine, or was it to protect yours? The thing is, my feelings were hurt repeatedly through the whole debacle. And I tried to make you believe everything was fine. It wasn’t. And that’s why I stopped coming to the gym and calling all the time. I had to make a conscious choice for my conscience and my sanity: I had to remove myself from your life (or lessen the degree to which I was involved in it). And I think I did that.

So, story time—here goes. Once upon a time, there was a stereotypically hot, blonde bombshell working as a first year teacher. But she was so much more than the stereotype. She was smart, fun, supportive, compassionate, and wonderful. You know her as my roommate, but before that, she was my friend. And we supported each other. We nicknamed you “Running Man” and she helped me see that I needed distance from the whole thing; it was becoming unhealthy for me. And in return, I listened to her when she needed an ear, especially when her world started spinning out of control. The spinning began when a charming, intelligent, witty Italian man decided to fall in love with her. The problem was….drum roll, please…he was married and had two beautiful children at home.

Being this person's close friend, and also being friendly with both of them, I was privy to most of the drama—the complexity of it all, and also the history behind it. From what I gather, the single biggest cause of this was his choice to get married when he wasn’t ready, when everyone expected it of him, when it seemed like the only next option in his life. He got married, swore his undying love and devotion, to a woman that he later wasn’t convinced he was in love with or was going to be truly happy with. All because he couldn’t hurt her feelings. And now there are children involved.

He was moments away from ending his marriage to start a new relationship with this young woman. But when he had to look his little boy in the face and tell him Daddy was leaving him, it all fell to pieces. He punked out, again. He was unable to listen to his feelings, to make a decision based on HIM, on what would make HIM happy. This time, it was the right decision; I truly believe that. But I know how much it has torn apart his marriage, how much it has hurt my friend, and how much it has thrown him into a dizzying bout of self-doubt and misery. This time, he has the responsibility to two children to do the right thing, to follow through with the expected next step.

But before marriage… had he truly considered his options and truly listened to himself, would he have made a different decision? Would he now be in his early forties wondering if he could have been happier? I don’t know the answer to those things. But it does make you wonder.

It seems I’ve been hearing story after story this year about people feeling stuck or feeling obligated to stay in a relationship or take it to the next level when they weren’t sure. One of my childhood friends is one of those people. The blonde bombshell's childhood friend is another. I’ve recently heard of a new trend in dating being “starter marriages.” People are often using their first marriage to figure out what they want, and then kids are the marker of the “point of no return.” When did commitment become an obligation?

You are a good person, with a good heart, and good intentions. But I think you might be taking that too far. It is delusional to think you will never hurt others. It is inevitable. The thing is, you have a certain amount of control regarding how much you hurt someone. If you take that next step without being sure, you could be causing a lifetime of hurt. For you and for the person you are trying to protect from just that. You know that witty Italian man I was referring to before? In the throws of his marriage falling apart, his wife asked him, “How much of this was actually real? The dating? The wedding? What?” She is now questioning the entire relationship—her entire adult life with him, what she thought was happy and secure, is now in limbo. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.

For all I know, you’ve already proposed. And if that’s the case, I hope you’re happy, and I hope you’re certain it’s what you want. My understanding was always that you loved her and that you wanted to do the right thing by her. I just hope you’re doing what’s right by you, too.

I guess what I can’t understand is the fact that we can go out with a group of people, after months of not seeing each other and fall right back to that place. If you are so certain that she’s the one, why are you upset you’re not in my life like you once were, and why are you so concerned about “ruining it” (what exactly is it you are ruining, anyway?), and why are you grabbing my hand in the middle of a bar? Why do I get the feeling that you’re dragging your feet? That you’re still not sure?

Can’t you accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, this is not what you want? And that maybe, just maybe, you’d be better off figuring out what it is that you really want?

I don’t know. I went back and forth for a long time, trying to decide if it was my place to say this—if it was a selfish thing, if I had any right. After last Friday, after that look you gave me, and that cryptic text message, I decided it was time. Whether it is my place or not, I need this. And who knows, maybe no one else is saying this to you, and maybe it’s something you need to hear. Again, I don’t know. If this has to be a goodbye letter, so be it. It’s funny—I feel like I’m breaking up with a boyfriend I never had, and so I feel compelled to do this next thing. I want you to know that you showed me a tenderness, a sensitivity, and a supportiveness that I’ve never experienced in a guy before (in my age bracket, at least). For that, I thank you. For the sugar packet fights, the mutual love of music and beer, the Cincinnati trip, the dance show, the NBFB nights, the Bison nights, the car pool, the talks, the support, the friendship…for everything, I thank you. And still, every time we spend together, I’m happy and I see what could be, some day, with some one. I know I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I need, and you have played a significant part in that.

Right now, now that you’ve read these words, I have no expectations. And I will make no judgments. I just needed you to read them, and for better or worse, it truly is “up to you.”