The End

I was dumped.

There. There it is. Fed out into the universe for all the world to see. Making it more real than it’s been all day.

I was dumped.

And it came completely out of the blue.

I guess I should back up…

Mr. Fix-It knew that last night was my girl’s night. He knew, because I had told him Tuesday and again Thursday. He knew, because we had talked about our plans for the weekend. He knew.

But a little after 7, he started texting me.

I was already fully entrenched in my night with the ladies. Glass of wine in hand and cheese plate laid out in front of me. Laughing and chatting with a group of girls I adore. Even making a few new friends I had never met before.

He and I sent a few texts back and forth. Nothing major. Just quick catch-ups of our days as I still continued talking with my friends.

Then he asked if we would be partying all night. I told him it was doubtful, and that most of my friends had husbands and kids they needed to get home to. I figured we would probably drink and eat for a few hours and then all go off in our separate directions.

So he asked if I wanted to come over after.

And I said “yes”.

I hadn’t seen him since Monday after all. I was actually anxious to spend some time with him.

After that was decided though, I went back to enjoying my time with my girls. Where I made one major mistake.

I referred to him as my boyfriend.

For the first time ever, in talking to my friends, I called him my boyfriend.

I should have known I was jinxing myself right then and there.

Around 11:30, things started to wrap up. I sent him a text to make sure he was still up, and then I told him I was going to stop at the store on my way to his house. I wanted to know if he needed anything.

He didn’t, so I said I would be there soon.

And then I ran into the store with the intentions of buying only one thing.

A toothbrush.

You see, I’ve spent the night at his house a handful of times now, and I’ve never brushed my teeth there. It seems like whenever he winds up at my house, it’s planned and thought out. He's able to pack a few things and brush his teeth. But when I spend the night there, it’s more spur of the moment. And I always forget to grab any supplies.

Not brushing my teeth is not OK with me.

So I figured we were at the place where I could stash a toothbrush there. For the nights when I stayed over.

Again – totally jinxed myself.

When I showed up, we joked about the toothbrush a bit. I offhandedly commented that it may be too soon for the leaving of toothbrushes, but that I needed to be able to brush my teeth.

It didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

We sat downstairs and talked and listened to music for about 2 hours. We really can talk forever, that boy and I. It seems like we never run out of things to say to each other.

So everything was fine. We were good. Great even.

Then, it was time for us to go to bed.

We brushed our teeth together, and crawled in under the sheets. Where we were alternating back and forth between kissing and talking. As has happened every time we’ve ever spent the night together.

Like I said – we never seem to run out of things to say to each other.

So there we were, wrapped up in each other's arms and talking about who knows what.

Which is when I brought up New Years. And told him that I really wanted him to meet my friends.

And his reaction stopped me in my tracks.

“I’m not sure I really want to meet your friends.”

For those of you who just dropped your jaws and said “WHAT?!?” – Don’t worry. That seems to be the common reaction from everyone I’ve told this story to today.

It was my reaction too.

And that’s when we were hurdled into a conversation I don’t think either one of us had been planning on having.

A conversation about what we are.

Or I guess rather; what we aren’t.

That’s when he told me that he wasn’t really in the market for a relationship right now.

And I asked him what exactly he thought we had been doing up to this point.

He said he knew we were heading in that direction, and that it wasn’t anything I had misread. He told me he really did like me. That I was smart and fun and witty and he had a great time with me. But that all these little steps towards a relationship weren’t something he was ready for.

And then he launched into the excuses.

He had just gotten out of a relationship 4 months ago (we’ve never really discussed past relationships) and he wasn’t really ready to jump into another. He liked his space. His independence. He liked nights spent by himself. On his own. Without obligations or commitments to other people.

I had to stop and remind him that he had invited me over that night, not the other way around.

That in fact, he had invited me over the last few times we had hung out.

I told him that if he had wanted his space and the night to himself, he could easily have had that. I was having my night with the girls after all. And would have happily gone home to my own bed after that.

But he was the one who had asked me to come over.

And that’s when he started contradicting himself. Telling me that he knew that, and that he really had wanted to see me. That he enjoyed talking to me. He enjoyed spending time with me.

But he wasn’t ready for it to become a commitment.

And I was honestly shocked.

Sitting there and feeling much like I did when the ex had told me that we would always come back to each other, but we would never be together again.

It felt like for the second time in a row, a guy was telling me that he wanted me in his life, but that we didn’t have a future.

And so, I got up and started to get dressed. Knowing one thing for sure; I was not going to repeat my relationship with the ex with another guy.

It just wasn't going to happen.

That’s when I could tell he started to get a little panicky though.

He didn’t want me to leave. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go. He still cared about me.

I stopped him. Looked him in the eye and said “You just told me that you never even want to meet my friends. My friends! What kind of girl do you think would stay right now?”

And again, he started to backtrack. I could tell this wasn’t a conversation he had been planning on having. I don’t even think this was a conversation he had wanted to have.

But there it was. It was out there.

And at 3 in the morning, there was no escaping the words that had been said.

We talked for about 20 minutes longer. At one point I looked at him and said “It’s not like we’re going at lightning speed here. It’s not like I asked you to move in with me, or started talking marriage. I said I wanted you to meet my friends. That was it. We talk almost every day, and we spend a few nights a week together. I just thought that was the direction we were heading. I thought that’s what we were doing here. Moving forward. Like people do. I’m almost a little embarrassed right now, because I really did think we had something… I really did think we were building on something.”

And he admitted that we were. That I hadn’t been making that up. That we had been making those baby steps towards a relationship.

And that it wasn’t what he wanted.

I’m not sure I can adequately explain how calm this conversation was though. How reserved I was in everything I said. There were no heavy emotions. No strong outbursts. I was confused, and it was clear I was trying to clear up that confusion. But that was it.

So when we got downstairs, and he sat down on the steps and said “I almost feel like you’re a little relieved right now.” I almost felt bad. He had made a couple other comments about mistakes he had made in the past. Things he was trying to do now to put his life back together. And the fact that I seemed to have it all figured out. That I seemed to handle myself so well, even through difficult circumstances.

Comments that made me feel like he thought I was in some way better than him. That he needed to protect me from himself.

And then this. It made me realize that my lack of emotions hadn't been a good thing. That my inability to show him the sadder parts of myself may have bitten me in the ass.

But I couldn’t change it either. I was still in shock. Still blown away that this was happening.

So, I sat down on those stairs next to him. And I told him that if he was doing this to protect me, that he shouldn’t be. That I was a big girl who could take care of myself. Who could protect herself. And then, I told him how much I had been struggling lately. How much I had been hurting.

“You hide it well.” He said.

And I knew then that was part of it. Part of this.

But what could I do? How could I change it now? As I was being dumped?

Did I even want to?

I explained that I hadn’t been ready to show him those parts. And that now, here, on these steps, I honestly didn’t have it in me to get emotionally worked up about one more thing in my life. I didn’t have it in me to break down and beg him to reconsider. I didn’t have it in me to fight him on this.

But I told him that I was sad. That this wasn’t what I wanted. That us being over wasn’t how I had pictured this going.

That I liked him. And I didn’t want this to be the end.

But I wasn’t going to try to change his mind either.

And then, I put on my boots and  I left.

At 3:30 in the morning.

With him still sitting on those steps. I’m thinking just as blown away by what had gone down as I was.

It’s over. We’re done. Mr. Fix-It and I are no more.

This morning he sent me a text message:

“I just woke up. Well, just crawled out of bed. I’m sorry for being a dick head. I woke up this morning feeling pretty low about the way I conducted myself last night, but it was just clear we were at different points. Hope you don’t hold it against me too much. Maybe we can hang out some time away from the confines and pressure of a relationship, because at the end of the day I really just like talking to you.”

I responded that it was OK. That he wasn’t a dick head, and that I would rather he be honest with me than let me think that we were heading in a direction that we obviously weren’t. I told him that I was fine. A little bummed out and confused, but fine. And that I liked talking to him too.

But that was pretty much it.

And I have spent most of today in bed trying to work it all out.

I haven’t shed a tear. Haven’t cried a drop. I meant it when I said that I emotionally just did not have it in me to get worked up about anything else right now.

But I am sad.

This isn’t how I wanted things to go.

And I’m still not sure exactly what happened.

Except… I think he just got scared. And there is this part of me that is almost thinking that it was my fault.

I’m toying with the idea of writing him an e-mail. Of saying the things in writing that I just didn’t have it in me to say face to face. Of explaining that I think he's the one putting the pressure and stress on himself, because that certainly wasn’t my intention.

Of making sure he knows that there is no relief on my end with this. That this truly isn’t what I wanted.

But then again, I’m also toying with the idea of just never answering his phone calls again.

Because really? Who needs this?

I got dumped. Unexpectedly, and out of the blue.

I’m not sure that’s ever actually happened to me before. Not like this anyway. Not when I've been so totally blindsided by it.

Not when I haven't seen it coming at all.

And now, I’m not really sure how it is I’m supposed to react.