This is something I am exceptionally Not Good At. In any sort of relationship, I don't know when to call it quits, it takes me a long time to even realize I should
consider calling it quits. Things usually disintegrate pretty badly before I get to that point. Over the past two years, I've gotten a little better at it, but not much. Moving is the biggest thing that's helped (do not live with emotionally abusive parents or non-abusive ex's - I have that down pat now!). But my timing is still way off. You're supposed to leave when the parent physically threatens you, not years later. You're supposed to leave when the ex breaks up with you, not months later. There must be red flags that lead up to those points, as well, but I'll be damned if I know what they actually
mean.
So when do you give up on a relationship? I've got two that I'm debating about right now, one romantic and one family.
The romantic one is easier (in theory anyway) because it's not a question of whether to end things but of whether to hold out hope of reviving them. You take your time apart, get yourselves both into better mental places - and then what? If your life is better with someone in it, how high a priority do you make them? If there are foreseeable obstacles down the road, unrelated to your mutual affection, how seriously do you take them? Is it worth it to try, knowing you might not make it together? Or is it better to cut your losses and try to Just Be Friends, knowing it's "easier" to decide this now than it will be later? What happens if there's another, possibly "better" person in the picture? What exactly are you willing to potentially give up, either way?
Family. Ugh. I don't know that this one is even possible to get out of even if I wanted to. I just wrote a lovely paragraph explaining the situation as vaguely as I could while still making sense, and I just deleted it because even though about 3 people read this, it's not something I can have floating around on the internet. More questions. Can you ever forgive someone for destroying your family? Can you ever learn how to seperate who you are from the things someone else did? I am perfectly capable of smiling and discussing mundane things and making each other laugh hysterically when we visit. But I don't know if I can keep doing that my whole life. I don't know if I want to. I don't know what to do when you love the person you hate the most.
Wow. Way to be depressing with the first post of the New Year, huh? Sorry. I am going nuts with the girl situation right now as well as itching to see my friends at school. I'm housesitting (and making mad money!) for my friend's family through Sunday, then heading back to my apartment for a few weeks before I move back home indefinitely. Can't remember if I mentioned the move in the New Year's blog. So, 7 days til I see the majority of my friends, and probably not until then that I'll be able to clear anything up with the other thing, either. My original stance was Wait And See, but the more elements you throw into the situation the more difficult it becomes. If I don't write again it's most likely because I have died from Acute Lack Of Patience.
Suggestions on any and all fronts are appreciated. I'll try to be good and breathe properly and not perish from anticipation of what might be :-)
Finally,
Kate Bornstein's take on leaving, from
Hello, Cruel World:
Everything comes to an end. What no one ever tells you is what to do after that. This is what you do: you move on and you
keep moving on. It's not as bad as it sounds.
Moving on is the other side of the mountain from death and dying. It's about what you do after the dying and after the death. It's wherever life takes you after the end of something that was beautiful and important or ugly and painful in your life. Moving on is what you do after a relationship is over, whether it was a relationship with someone, something, or someplace. Moving on is about continuing your life without that physical prescence.
You choose to move on when you stop falling back into an identity that no longer works for you. It's a way you can start all over again and put all the painful or joyful good-byes in context with the hellos that always follow. How can you tell when something is over? I'm still learning that one, but usually I get the message when I feel stuck or when I'm in too much pain, and good-bye is one of the very few options left. Sure, moving on can leave you bone lonely, but most of that loneliness happens when you're lost in memories. Part of moving on successfully is learning what to leave behind.