Like any good blogger, I read other people’s blogs. One of the blogs I read is called The Naked Redhead (hereinafter TNR). Yes, what initially drew me to this blog was my semi-fetish for redheads (and my uber-fetish for naked ones), but what keeps me reading is TNR’s writing style. I’m not going to get into a whole fellow-blogger ass-kissing session here, because, well, I’m just not into that. But I will say that I pulled TNR’s RSS feed after reading a single post.
Yesterday’s post at TNR is entitled “The Big, The Bad And The Break-Ups” [sic], and you shouldn’t have a problem guessing what it’s about – especially if you know that TNR is in the relationships blogging niche. TNR’s breakup advice for her friend was “Don’t me nice, and don’t be mean. Mean is awful, nice is worse”.
I don’t know that I have much of an opinion on the matter, because I’ve never really been on the receiving end of a dumping. Sure, I’ve been the last person to call, email, or text, but nobody’s ever said to me “Ted, this just isn’t working”. I may not always be the first to recognize when it’s not working, but I seem to have been the one who actually does something about it.
Yeah, breakups are tough. I’ve found that the shorter the relationship, the easier the breakup. Call me queer, but I really don’t get into a relationship unless I think there’s a long-term possibility. And once I realize that I’m not going to marry the girl, I’m out. I don’t stick around because it’s convenient. And I’m not much of a “let’s be friends” kind of guy afterward. If it’s over, it’s over. Friends later on down the road? Possibly. But not immediately afterward – I think that’s just too tough. And if there’s one kind of relationship I don’t ever want to be in, it’s the on-again, off-again kind. Yuck. Grow some balls, dude. Either stick together and work it out because it’s worth it, or be done with it and move on. That’s my motto. Well, not really – but it would be if I believed in mottoes.
The last relationship I was in that would fall into the “LTR” category was a couple of years ago, and I was the one to end it. The relationship lasted for about seven months or so, but I kind of knew I wanted out about three weeks before I ended it. Actually getting to the point of saying “I don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore” was kind of tough, but once I had made up my mind to have the conversation, it was easy enough to be honest and shoot her straight. I was kind of surprised that I felt so bad afterward. I knew she realized that I wasn’t all that happy, but she wasn’t expecting me to end the relationship. There’s really no way to break up without some pain, and I knew I was going to cause her some pain, but I didn’t think that I would feel bad about it.
I didn’t feel bad that I had hurt her a little bit – it was really for the best. It would have been worse for me to continue the relationship when I wasn’t happy with the way things were going. But what wa strange was that I felt bad for me. I’m having a hard time describing it. It wasn’t quite that I missed her, but I think TNR’s quote in the beginning of her post is apropos: “Break-ups are like ripping off a band-aid really fast…from your heart.” It was just kind of a feeling of emptiness in a part of my life that had once been full.
Don’t get me wrong, I made the right decision to break up, and this feeling lasted for about a day or so; I was just surprised that I had the feeling at all. I suppose my mind thought I had severed the emotional attachment, but my heart thought otherwise.
This was nothing, of course, compared to the breakup that preceded my divorce – that was pain unimaginable. Like someone stuck their hand inside my head, scooped out a handful of my brains, and splat! threw them against a brick wall.