Dear Mr. Yummy,
Dear Mr Yummy,
It is starting to hurt. I am spiraling. I feel unimportant. Irrelevant. Disposable. You are running. If you are not running, then what exactly is it that you are doing? I wish I knew… Do not misunderstand. I do not actually need to know exactly what you are doing. I need to know only as it relates to me. To us.
I do not want to play games. I do not want to have to ignore you in order to hear from you. That being said, I also want to give you the space and time to figure out what it is that you want. Do you know? Can you share please.
I went down the rabbit hole last night. I stalked your ex’s instagram. She is so beautiful. And young. And free. And interesting. I am certain she speaks four languages. Fluently. And what fun the two of you had together. A lot of really great vacations, your words. Hmmmmmm. For so long. What a beautiful life you shared. Or so it seems.
As a direct result, I am feeling especially irrelevant right now. I am usually so good at staying away from those rabbit holes. I was feeling weak, and perhaps needed to distance myself from you. Emotionally. As you have cornered the market on physical distancing. My intention, to talk myself out of you. I did. And then I woke up this morning. I am so grateful for my ability to sleep. It saves me. Please do not wake me. On mornings like these, following nights such as those, in times such as this. Regardless, I do wake up early…in quite a panic. Today. Which I suppose is good as it gives me an opportunity to get things done and a bit (ton) of nervous energy to motivate me into distraction. Everyone is still asleep. It will be hours before the demands begin. Well, the cat. He is always awake before me, despite my current state and my early rise. He is at the very least, easy to feed. I toss him some dog kibble. He is ecstatic. That will certainly shut him up. For quite some time.
I will write. And catch up on all of things that never seem to get done. Important shit. I have gotten better at letting go of getting things done. I realized or perhaps just speculated that the minutia serves as a distraction. From more important matters. So here I sit at 4am in a dirtier than I would like, house. I am more present than ever. Yet… When I woke up this morning I was hit with the reality not only that you are running (boring) but also that my children are nearly grown (interesting). They will go soon. It goes so fast. This is the cliche of all cliches, for good reason. It is truth. I feel an emptiness. What will I do? Who will I be? I am a mother. I digress.
Back to you. To us. Is there an us? I am not sure.
I could ask (if we ever spoke). But… then there is the possibility (probability) that I will hear something I do not want to hear. If I don’t ask it and then hear the words from your luscious mouth, I cannot be sure. So I will sit with the knowing and claim that I do not know. Officially.
I have rebranded you several times. You are fun. You are a distraction. You are irrelevant. You are disposable. It works. For a minute. Then it stops working. I am developing a tolerance and a resistance to the rebranding exercises. Arrrrgh.
Switch drugs?
Go cold turkey?
Something.
When in doubt, do nothing. Quite profound and at the same time destructively convenient. Someone please remind me. How do you spell rationalization? I believe there are many accurate versions.
As I dismantle my profundity, I am faced with the fact that doing nothing is not nothing. It is a definite choice. A choice to accept the status quo. To stop growing. To stop directing the course. To stop wanting. I do not want to accept anything as it stands and this is not because it is not beautiful and wonderful by the way. I do not want to stop growing and most certainly do not want to stop wanting. What then? Don’t answer that.
Perhaps that is the ultimate goal though? Is it? Is it unhealthy to want? Is it better to strive for contentment? What actually is that? I am content in my continual desire to grow and to want and to direct. This is getting confusing, even to me.
As I often say, about just about everything…Everything is on a spectrum or continuum. There is not a right or wrong answer. This is individual and circumstantial and dependent and therefore a lot of fucking work to sort out. We each have a window of tolerance. Do I simply want to tolerate? NO. I would like to be on the high side of my open window. I want to be up there near the opening, soaking in the breeze and the sunshine. Not barely hanging onto the sill, which is where I am right about now.
Am I your Covid Girlfriend?
Will I be discarded once your work and your life is back online?
Once you are back in the air and out of this godforsaken country? Your sentiment. This is somewhat offensive to me btw. I love this country. This country and what it stands for is the very reason we have the luxury of leaving it and forsaking it.
Probably. A Covid girlfriend.
How convenient am I?
Great. Something I have always strived to become. Convenient.
In your defense, am I really defending you?, We would not have ever even met were it not for the lockdown we are all enduring. Probably not. At least not now.
Does that make it better? No. Not really.
You are distancing yourself as I write. You are running. Maybe you are looking forward to your life and I don’t fit into it. I am great now, in lockdown. I work for you.
How convenient.
Addendum:
It has taken me so long to write this pathetic pity party of a letter that you have figured out a way to travel, and yes, not only can I be discarded, I have been. Asked and answered.
This may very well be the first time I have ever been ghosted. Although I am certain I will hear from you again. Some crumb to check for a pulse perhaps? Not sure what it will look like.
Another Addendum-yes, it has taken even longer than long to write this shit-
It looks like a text every 6–7 days.
But yes, ghosted. You are a ghost who continues to haunt. I predict you will continue to be. I am quick like that.
How does this younger generation, of women primarily, let’s be honest, come to terms with this method of ending relationships? Or dragging them out as the case may be? I have been reading about a fair amount of ghosting and it seems to be quite the norm.
A generation of cowards?
My Yummy, you are my age… Are you simply taking advantage of the new technology? The current climate?
How convenient.
The lack of clarity hurts and confuses but I am stepping (slowly) into the knowing and I am breaking up with you.
(Yes, you can break up with someone even if they don’t know about it.)
My rule. Just made it. That is a thing.
“This just isn’t working out. I think we want different things.”
