T,

I never cease to be amazed by life. Just as I was starting to sink into the mandatory self-flagellation period that follows a break-up – looking for the evidence of why we ended – fate, circumstance, or simple serendipity step in and provides me with an answer.

Two days ago I walked home from work to have a quiet lunch. I turned on the TV (so that I’d have some background noise to fill my big, empty apartment) to discover that Q&A was on. The host and guests were in the middle of an animated discussion on the merits and validity of lust and love in relationships, so as you can imagine I was more than a little intrigued. One of the guests defined love as a mixture of intimacy, emotion and commitment, then went on to say that real love is the result of two people making a commitment to be together after spending enough time together to know what they’re getting into and what compromises they are willing to make.

Needless to say, this information was revelatory, as was the fact I had the opportunity to see the show. Very serendipitous indeed, which was interesting as it was serendipity that brought us together and enticed us to a new city together, whilst it was a lack of intimacy, emotion and commitment that caused us to drift apart. Up until ‘us’, I thought relationships drifted apart like tectonic plates – slowly, silently, inevitably –  but I now know that people are very different from continental plates (duh!). We drifted apart in a matter of weeks and days, though, with the benefit of hindsight, I see that the damage was done long ago. Some of it occurred before we fled the sunshine state together, some happened long before we met.

The romantic side of me likes to think of our time together in more poetic terms. I know I’ve mentioned my favourite Ralph Waldo Emerson quote once or twice during our dalliance, as much because it guides me as brings me comfort ‘post-us’. I’ve republished it below with some edits which reflect where my head is re: what I see as the ‘upside of you’ and ‘us’…

“To laugh often and much (which we did, at first); to win the respect of intelligent people (you earned my respect) and the affection of children (your niece and nephew adore you); to earn the appreciation of honest critics (you probably still need to accept that you are deserving of appreciation…I’m just saying) and endure the betrayal of false friends (you know you do this well); to appreciate beauty (you are very easy to appreciate, as were the many amazing moments together); to find the best in others (you do, but it’s why, sometimes, you let the world walk all over you); to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child (OK, this one’s not relevant unless there’s something you haven’t told me:), a garden patch (nor this one, you definitely don’t have green thumbs!) or a redeemed social condition (you know you need to get off your butt and go speak to that segment of society that needs to hear your story – you know what I’m talking about); to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived (you’ve taken my breath away so many times – good and bad – though mostly good). This is to have succeeded.”

According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, your life, and my time with you, could be deemed a success. And I have to agree with Ralph, you’re quite possibly the most generous and amazing woman I’ve met in my brief time on this third rock from the sun. And on paper, you’re perfect for me. But as schmaltzy and sentimental as the above is, it’s also balanced by the pragmatic side of me that is absolutely certain that (as vulgar as it is to say out loud) we always had a shelf life. As beautiful as the above quote is, another quote I live by is equally as appropriate at this parting of our two (briefly) blended lives;

“He who is silent is taken to agree”

You know and I know, we both stayed silent too long. We both had doubts yet held them close to us. But that’s dating, right? We’re socialised to accept that a measure of silence and compromise is a part of dating, but we’re never really told when to break our silence or what to compromise on, and what not to. Sadly, I found out too late that you  were never really committed to ‘us’ because you weren’t willing to risk all for fear of being hurt again. As such the intimacy and emotion we shared was short lived. I knew ‘we’ were in trouble the moment you started avoiding eye contact when I told you I loved you. When you pulled away too soon as I held you, or rolled to your side of the bed as soon when we lay down at night. When we sat quietly across from each other at meals, unable to make eye contact or fill the conversational void. But no hard feelings. Thankfully there were only a few weeks of this silent betrayal, prior to this we shared some truly wonderful months which have been some of the best months of my life.

We came into each others lives at a time when we both needed someone to lessen our loads. And whilst at first I thought you were here for a lifetime, time has shown me that you were only meant to be in my life for a reason, for a season. And that’s OK.

My advice to you – and to me – is to save your heart for someone who cares. This isn’t meant to sound dismissive, it’s simply meant as a way of framing the fact that I now realise that I gave mine away to you too freely (thought I don’t regret doing so as I’m never going to change that part of me) without you earning it.

I genuinely wish you the best. Maybe one day we can be friends, I don’t know if this is practical or realistic, but who knows. Life’s funny like that. This time last year my life was headed in a very different direction, then we met and a lot of things changed, especially me, and I will always be thankful for that.

Sincerely, best wishes:)

C