“Can you cement a door shut?” I asked my girlfriend while I was explaining that a door I held open for almost a decade was forever closed. I was referring to someone I had dated on and off, and sharing what I had just heard about him that was beyond disgusting that there would be no future anything with this guy ever. Never ever. Finally. Hence the cemented door. She said, ” I was so surprised that you had given him another chance after how he was when your mom was dying.” Uffff. That comment took me back to last summer when my mom was in the hospital for a week and what was the beginning of the end. He and I had been seeing each other for months. Traveling together. Going to parties, dinners etc. When this terrible time started, he was nowhere to be seen. After a while of no effort from him, I said that I was finally closing our chapter. He said, “I realize that I haven’t been prioritizing us but work has been busy, I’ve had my son, and I’ve been golfing more than ever before.” WTF. Basically I’m sorry you are going through what will be one of the hardest things you will have ever have to go through, but I have a tee time.

I remember feeling sick when I received that text. First I felt sick and then I shared it with my friends. Thank goodness for the friends that can soften sickness and sadness with humor. I received comments back like: Give the guy a medal. It became a verbal meme and would have the ironic tone of acknowledging that this is a guy who really is doing it all. Truly incredible. Golfing. More than ever. Before. So when I walked into a party at my girlfriend’s house with him this summer, you can understand her surprise at seeing us together again. She did not show it and greeted him with her typical enthusiasm, but now I know what she was thinking. I’ve been feeling embarrassed to have ever been associated with him. That I ever thought he was anything different than what I had been warned about for years. I could go on and on, but the more pressing issue here is why did I grant access to someone like that? For years. And years. I always left our interactions disappointed. Never feeling like he took a genuine interest in me. And when I would share something, he immediately made it relatable so he could turn the conversation back to himself. It was never enough. Yet I thought a commitment could change that. I knew I wanted more. Needed more. Deserved more. But misdirected that more. I thought I needed more with him. But I needed more for me. I needed a better fit. Wanting more from the wrong person is like trying to get full with saltine crackers. It’ll never satisfy. You need more substance.

Note to self: pay attention when you are wanting more from someone. maybe it’s really just knowing you deserve more. period.

It’s so clear now, but how do I quit beating myself up for those low standards? I started by making a list of the good that came out of knowing him. Great friendships with people I wouldn’t have met had we not been at a squash tournament together. A party together. Trips to new destinations. There were fun experiences. But I’m fun, so he doesn’t really get that credit. Joking, but not really. But still, it helped to think about the positives. It also helped to do one cathartic swipe that erased years of texting. That’s when I know I have no desire of a future with someone. Zooming out and seeing the picture holistically has been beyond clarifying. We leaned on one another through the years, whether it was a date needed or a safe space after a breakup. I never really felt like he was the one. And he was pretty upfront about what he had to offer. So, taking responsibility for my choice in this dynamic is actually a very powerful feeling. And even more powerful is knowing I will never do that again. Nothing is ever a waste. And I’ve been thinking about how I truly do see what I want to see in someone. And hear what I want to hear. I’ve created many incredible men in my mind. A combination of the good I knew was there, the potential I thought was there, and maybe some wishful thinking too. But, inevitably, there always comes a time to take those rose colored glasses off. Clarity doesn’t come until it’s meant to. And in this case, it has finally come. With a cement mixer. XO