When Karma Reaches You, I Wanna Be There Just In Case It Needs Help

It was so anti-climactic in the end. All the fights, all the nastiness...all for naught. It has taken me some time to decide to write this post because I've been dealing with mixed emotions of the oddest kind. I know I'm better off. I know she never loved me. I know I was only needed because she was in a funk and required a pick me up. But knowing all of this, I still reacted to the end as if I cared. Because I did. Not nearly as much as I had in the beginning, but it is not in me to just switch off caring about someone. You know that girl that pushes you down on the playground when you're a kid and then tries to kiss you after she helps you up? That pretty much sums up our entire relationship. And I chose to keep taking the kisses instead of paying attention to the shoving and pushing back. I'm not blind to the fact that I played my part here, in the fighting and in the ignorant bliss we both chose to live in. In hindsight, the statistics are amazing in that they do not tell the story with any kind of accuracy. She "ended" it over a dozen times in two years, while I did so maybe twice. She hung up on me dozens and dozens of times and I also hung up a lot but not nearly as much as her. The ratio of hurtful things said in anger is probably about even. The motivations behind us staying even though we both knew we were far past the sale date are a mystery to me. At least her reasons are. I know why I stayed. I loved having someone who knew me so well and who understood me, although it was always in the back of my head that I could never share all of myself with her. I withheld what I knew she would never accept. That alone was reason to break it off. But I cared about her deeply and felt awful about leaving her to deal with her family shit all by herself. As time wore on it became evident that if we were to be together long-term, her family issues would involve me and that always made me uncomfortable. My family is far from perfect but I don't have to clean up every mess each one of them makes, the way she does. Everything comes to a standstill when she has to handle family issues. I could never live my life like that. The problem with her knowing me well is that she also knew nothing about me in some ways. She liked to think she knew though; every reaction, every thought, every past sin. But no. And now, while I regret some of the secrets I shared, I know I was right to keep other to myself. There may be another post-mortem about all of this because there is so much to cover but let's start at the end.
The official end was two-fold. After a lot of back and forth and on and off, I finally agreed to talk about possibly committing to us and only us. I'd been resistant to this for many reasons; because of the way we fought, because I knew she wanted marriage and I don't, but I decided to at least have a conversation about it. The day before this convo I was called out of town for work and she was in the midst of a night out so I apologized and made alternate plans for us via email. I went to bed early and woke up to six texts, all of them saying she was done with us. I boarded a plane and landed hours later to another two texts and an email, all saying she didn't want to be done and claiming she hadn't read the email until that afternoon. I had a feeling she had read it, she reads everything the moment she gets it, but had changed her tune because she'd realized what life was going to be like without this. (Either that or she was bi-polar, which I sometimes wonder about. The tag for her on this blog is "BP".) Then, in her typical fashion, she completely ignored what she had said about being done as if it'd never happened. But I wasn't going to just get past it the way she always asked me to when she said or did something hurtful. I didn't start anything but I was very aware of what those texts said and kept it in the front of my mind. The day before we were going to have our convo, we fought yet again over something pointless. I'd gone out the night before and, for once, was not glued to my phone waiting on her every text, which was the moment I knew I was actually officially done. If I'd still cared at all, I would've texted her at the conclusion of the evening. But I didn't even think about her at all that night. The next morning I texted her sparingly because I was working and getting my things together before I left. She asked what I'd done the night before and I just said I'd gone out at which point she abruptly cut off what little conversation we did have going. Then she accused me of flat out ignoring her texts all night and all morning, which I took offense to. She had gone out MANY times before and done the exact same thing, even purposely ignoring a string of texts I'd sent her. She'd gone out while we were in the midst of blowouts and I'd cave and send half a dozen texts asking her questions about whether she even actually cared and wanted to work shit out but the next morning the only reply I would get was, "Morning babe". Yet she's allowed to accuse me of the same shit. It was the double standard I could no longer deal with, and things only snowballed from there. Completely out of her ass, she pulled out all this crap about how I'd canceled our plans for the next day and how that was the final straw. I'd said NOTHING about canceling and in fact I'd asked her to call me so we could talk things out before they spiraled. She'd been texting me for twenty minutes, all of it negative shit she was making up, but suddenly couldn't talk because she was at a dinner. It was always amazing to me how she could not have time to talk for a few minutes when things were good between us, but when things were bad she was always able to text incessantly. Drama was like Jello for this chick - there was always room for it. I didn't care that she couldn't talk but I wasn't going to continue texting shit like damn middle schoolers. She wasn't reading my texts anyway. When I repeated that I had not canceled, she gave me some crap about how I had never confirmed our plans either. Seriously? You're ripping into me and making shit up but you want me up on a cross because I didn't interrupt what has become our regularly scheduled programming in order to say, "Hey, let's have lunch tomorrow"? NOBODY in their right mind is going to do that in the middle of their own crucifixion. She continued to make up shit and claim I'd canceled on her as if it was fucking gospel and I was just over it. I no longer cared. But in all the BS she was spewing, she did get one thing right - "This is over". And so it was.
Looking back, even I'd wanted to save us there was no way it would've happened. Somewhere along the line I'd lost what little patience I had and she'd lost the ability to listen to anything but the sound of her own voice. Once she had twisted something in her head, there was no way to get the actual truth through to her. And eventually I got tired of that M.O. and just stopped trying. On this night in particular I was so over attempting to reason with someone who had no interest in doing so. If she thought I'd canceled and she was using that as her excuse, then so be it. Was probably for the best anyway. I'd long known we were both halfway out the door anyway, especially since she had tried to walk away two days prior. But the way she did it irked me and probably always will. First she invents shit in her own head, then she proceeds to tell me we're done in a series of texts. Whenever I don't respond in a few seconds, I get shit like, "I guess this is easy for you". Whenever I do respond with a few lengthy texts of my own, I get one line replies like, "Have a good trip". Oh, and she did this all while at a dinner party with her friends. Talk about not giving a fuck. I'm aware of what century we're in and that texting is the norm now but neither of us were raised in this century and I know she knows how to at least pick up a damn phone to end a relationship. She later said it was breaking her heart and blah blah blah but I don't buy that for a minute. She was cold fucking blooded til the end. The next day she continued to text, seemingly trying to put the whole thing on me and my "cancellation" and absolve herself of anything. I flat out told her that if we'd had a single conversation, just one, on the phone prior to my flight taking off then shit could be where she wanted it and not fucked up. The response? Radio. Silence. I could've fucking beg for that convo and I still never would have gotten it. But I had no interest in asking her for shit anymore, especially when I knew it would never happen anyway. Drama for the sake of drama, that's all she's ever been and always will be and I got out while I still had my own sanity left.
I wanted, so badly, to get nasty towards her at the end. But it just wasn't worth it. SHE wasn't worth it. It would've been a waste of breath and of time. I wanted to wish her good luck finding someone to put up with her and her fucked up family. I wanted to tell her that, fortunately for her, a lot of dudes probably got married over New Years so there will be no shortage of other women's husbands for her to fuck (the reason for this being that she thinks having an affair with a married man says nothing about her character but my sexual experimentation with folks of the non-married variety is so abhorrent). I wanted to tell her that I'd already foreseen the way her life was going to turn out; she was going to dive back into work and ALWAYS choose it over anybody or anything else. She's never going to have the stable family life or kids she so desperately claims to want. All she has ever been and will ever be is a workaholic by day and a borderline alcoholic party girl by night. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything my friends ever said about her was 100% true. She can't be in a functional, healthy and loving relationship because dysfunction is all she's ever known and she's made no effort to learn anything different. She'll never stop working long enough to have children and, even if she does, she's way too much of a narcissist to be a good parent. She'd likely just dump the kids on her husband (should she even find one) while she worked and buy all of them pretty things to make up for her absence. I don't want that kind of relationship. I'm not motivated by greed, narcissism and dysfunction, and I certainly don't keep company with those kind of people. Even as we parted, she was in the midst of trying to land a reality television show for some no-talent wannabe singer, one that she may even be on camera for. On one hand, I hope it works out so she can become the punchline she so deserves to be. She always preached about respect and her career and shit so it's fucking comical that she's willing to toss all of that by the wayside for money. People on reality TV aren't smart or talented, they're jokes. Maybe she belongs there after all. On the other hand, I never want to see or hear from her again so it wouldn't break my heart if this deal, like every deal she's tried to be a part of since I've known her, falls apart. At the end of the day, I'm pissed off at myself more than I am her. I had every opportunity to book but I didn't. But everything for a reason. End of that chapter. FINALLY.