He was never mine, and I was never his, but Crazy Chinatown Man and I did have a relationship that needed to be addressed. We loved each other, I think, though he could only say it when intoxicated, and I couldn't say it at all. What type of love we shared is up for debate, which I'm not willing to do, because the magic of this connection was we just felt it and didn't analyze.
I sensed him gradually fade me away as he continued to pursue the woman he's seeing, which I understood but resented. I was plagued with thoughts of the "what-ifs." What if he hadn't moved to Oregon and we'd had more time together? Would I be the one he was pursuing instead? Like three loves of my life before, I'd lost him to distance, and the what-could-have-been possibility was excruciatingly painful.
But the issue at hand was that I missed him and wanted his support, and he was not in a position to give it as freely as he had in the past. I was annoyed at his unresponsiveness to text messages and wished he would just say what needed to be said: That I needed to disengage. That he had moved on.
I spelled it out for him in an email so he didn't have to: "Hey J______, it seems like you need more space?... Would it be better for you if we didn't talk for awhile?"
"I guess maybe I do," was his response, adding that he and the woman were getting more serious.
It was nothing I didn't already know, but I had to hear him say it.
I was heartbroken, devastated, sick to my stomach, overwhelmingly lonely, and bitter- for about three hours. Then I reminded myself that he had a choice, and he didn't choose me. I know he cares about me, but he didn't choose me, and I want someone to choose me. I deserve someone who chooses me. I want a man to be all like "Fuck yeah, I'm choosing this girl because she's amazing! I will choose her over and over again! I'm choosing her because she's independent and smart and crazy passionate about social justice and fixing the world! I'm choosing her because she tries really hard to live ethically and treat people and the environment well! I'm choosing her because she's hiking the Pacific Crest Trail by herself through Washington state, and she's lived in Korea and Guatemala, and she's traveled alone through Turkey, Panama, Poland, New Zealand, and Japan! I'm choosing her because she will be an amazing wife and mother!" I want a man to choose me for these reasons and more, and that's just not him.
So I put on my big girl panties and asked my friend A_____ to come over, where we finished off somewhere between 6-12 beers, ate a pizza, watched a Say Yes to the Dress marathon, and fell asleep together.
Then I woke up and texted W______, "Come over tonight," which was a command statement and not a question. He responded "I'm looking forward to it." And just like that, I decided to start the process of letting go of J______, or Crazy Chinatown Man, who is the only man I've really cared about since I moved back to Seattle, four long years ago.
I sensed him gradually fade me away as he continued to pursue the woman he's seeing, which I understood but resented. I was plagued with thoughts of the "what-ifs." What if he hadn't moved to Oregon and we'd had more time together? Would I be the one he was pursuing instead? Like three loves of my life before, I'd lost him to distance, and the what-could-have-been possibility was excruciatingly painful.
But the issue at hand was that I missed him and wanted his support, and he was not in a position to give it as freely as he had in the past. I was annoyed at his unresponsiveness to text messages and wished he would just say what needed to be said: That I needed to disengage. That he had moved on.
I spelled it out for him in an email so he didn't have to: "Hey J______, it seems like you need more space?... Would it be better for you if we didn't talk for awhile?"
"I guess maybe I do," was his response, adding that he and the woman were getting more serious.
It was nothing I didn't already know, but I had to hear him say it.
I was heartbroken, devastated, sick to my stomach, overwhelmingly lonely, and bitter- for about three hours. Then I reminded myself that he had a choice, and he didn't choose me. I know he cares about me, but he didn't choose me, and I want someone to choose me. I deserve someone who chooses me. I want a man to be all like "Fuck yeah, I'm choosing this girl because she's amazing! I will choose her over and over again! I'm choosing her because she's independent and smart and crazy passionate about social justice and fixing the world! I'm choosing her because she tries really hard to live ethically and treat people and the environment well! I'm choosing her because she's hiking the Pacific Crest Trail by herself through Washington state, and she's lived in Korea and Guatemala, and she's traveled alone through Turkey, Panama, Poland, New Zealand, and Japan! I'm choosing her because she will be an amazing wife and mother!" I want a man to choose me for these reasons and more, and that's just not him.
So I put on my big girl panties and asked my friend A_____ to come over, where we finished off somewhere between 6-12 beers, ate a pizza, watched a Say Yes to the Dress marathon, and fell asleep together.
Then I woke up and texted W______, "Come over tonight," which was a command statement and not a question. He responded "I'm looking forward to it." And just like that, I decided to start the process of letting go of J______, or Crazy Chinatown Man, who is the only man I've really cared about since I moved back to Seattle, four long years ago.
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