73 Elliots Way
Reading, Berkshire
RG4 8BW
UK
So, you might ask, what happened? And honestly, I couldn't tell you. I want to say it was a culmination of many issues, but I think it's more accurate to say it was the recognition that the issues were getting worse, not better. The problem, as I see it, is Jess has never been in a 'real' relationship before, and so didn't appreciate that you have to behave slightly differently in a long-term relationship than in a short-term one. Unfortunately, my efforts to help her understand that fell on deaf ears, and so I patiently waited for her to figure it out on her own. After three years, I guess my patience finally ran out.
I think the 'final straw' speaks volumes. After all we'd been through remodeling the house, we finally moved at the end of April, and it should have been one of excitement and celebration. However, during the move we put a lot of boxes in the spare bedroom (as one does), and while Jess was out of town for business, I sorted through them. Keep in mind, this was not personal stuff; this was books and linens and kitchen utensils. And it wasn't organized; when you move, everything gets thrown in helter-skelter, so all I did was organize it -- put the linens together on the bed, the books together in the corner, the bathroom stuff together under the sink, etc. I left it to Jess to actually put everything away, so it was the way she wanted it and she knew where everything was.
Jess was upset beyond words. To hear her tell it, I should have asked permission first, that I shouldn't have touched her things, and that I didn't organize anything, I just took a controlled mess (the boxes in one room) and made a larger mess (piles throughout the house). And the fact is, I knew she would feel that way--when she agreed to let me move in to her flat, her one requirement was "don't touch anything." Hardly a warm, loving welcome, but I recognized that controlling part of her personality--which is why I didn't actual put anything way, but left it for her.
In addition, I knew that left to her own devices, Jess would never unpack the boxes--as long as they were out of sight, that was good enough for her. However, I don't work that way, and having a room full of boxes would have grated on me every day. So unpacking everything served two purposes--one, it forced us to put things away (and get rid of what we didn't need), and two, it was my way of saying this is our house; we share it and have to deal with it together.
Jess couldn't deal with it. But what was worse than her yelling at me -- which I expected -- was that she then proceeded to ignore me for two weeks. Two weeks! I couldn't talk to her, couldn't touch her, couldn't do anything with her. I kept thinking, this is so ridiculous, how much longer can she keep this up? Well, I don't actually know how much longer she could have gone, because two weeks was my limit, and I blew up. In a big way.
Two and a half years of being patient, of waiting for her to commit, to acknowledge and respect me, to feel like I was actually in a relationship--all of that came pouring forth in heated rhetoric that could not have possibly had any aim other than the total destruction of the relationship. And that's not uncommon for me--I am not a man of halves, and if I can't have it all, I'd rather not have it at all. And that is exactly what I ended up with, nothing at all.
If I expected Jess to fight for the relationship, I was sadly mistaken. She did at one point make an appointment with a relationship counselor, but then immediately started asking me if it was worthwhile. I said "yes" the first three times, but the fourth time she asked, I told her if the £50 fee was more important to her than saving our relationship, then she should cancel it. And she did. So I moved out.
I moved back into the hotel from whence I started, and spent a few weeks assessing my life. I decided to move out of London, but not too far, and Reading was the obvious choice -- not only were there frequent, high-speed trains into central London, but my company had an office there was well. It had also recently undergone a bit of a renewal and the town centre was thriving, with a huge new open-air mall. It had a much lower cost of living, and I was able to find a two-bed flat that overlooked a park and the Thames river for less than I was paying for my one-bed flat in Ealing! And because the rail station is within walking distance, it takes me about the same amount of time -- 45 minutes -- to get into central London as it did from Ealing!
So I'm quite content here, although I have lots of stories from the past week: getting locked in, buying a fish tank, etc. I've also come to grips with the fact that the things I wanted with Jess, I still want -- I just have to find it with someone else. Someone who, hopefully, will appreciate the relationship.
I will certainly miss Jess--she was smart and funny, I thought she was absolutely gorgeous, she could be loving and compassionate, and her gentlest touch always went right through me. However, I won't miss feeling like a constant disappointment, being pushed away, and being completely ignored for weeks on end. Plus, while I hate to sleep alone, I prefer it to sleeping with someone who prefers to sleep alone, if that makes any sense.
This should have been a fantastic relationship, and there was really no reason it couldn't have been, but if nothing else, it was good for me to know that, after my divorce, I could still love so deeply, and I know I'll be able to recover from this as well. Although I'm pretty depressed at the moment, I'm actually very optimistic about the future. I'm grateful I have my job, and I still love England, and life goes on.
No comments:
Post a Comment