This past summer, I got back together with an ex, someone I’d broken up with almost three years ago. Time and a lot of other men had gone by, but I’d always carried a bit of a torch for him despite the breakup, which happened for extremely valid reasons (i.e. he lived overseas, he wasn’t always emotionally available, and he didn’t quite have his shit together, life-wise). It seems he missed me too, and the torch was rekindled for real. I truly love this dude, and we are very well-suited in a lot of ways, so I decided to see if things had changed enough to make it work this time around.
Unfortunately, after six months of Skype and e-mails, and spending quite a bit of money to visit him, I began to get the feeling that while things had improved somewhat over the past three years, they hadn’t improved enough. He says he wants to move back to New York soon…but, well, he told me the same thing three years ago. His shit is slightly more together, life-wise, but it turns out he’s not a whole hell of a lot more emotionally available. I kept extending myself, but he was doing a pretty crap job of meeting me halfway. He tends to be a brooder, and while dealing with his issues, likes to retreat into complete radio silence. Being met with a week or two of zero communication feels horrible when you’re in a long-distance relationship—especially when you notice that he updates his FB page, thus eliminating the possible explanation that he has died or is trapped under something heavy and can’t get to his computer.
On New Year’s Day, I hit a wall.