Post-Break-Up Casualties

When a relationship ends, it’s never just one

After five months of casually dating a nice (almost too nice) boy named Kyle*, I’ve realized I need to pull the plug. Actually, I probably realized this one or two months ago, but I’ve been allowing things to sort of… linger. I’ve been more distant, hoping that space would help get the point across, but to no avail. We even had one — and possibly two (the details are a little iffy) — conversations where he expressed some interest in making us a more serious version of “us” and I put on the brakes.

I don’t really have any solid complaints or reasons to stop seeing him other than this: I am not wowed. He’s genuinely thoughtful and kind, and perhaps one of the most positive people I know. He’ll buy me flowers randomly for no reason at all, and he’ll send texts like, “Hey, hope your work day went well!” and other such sweet things that maybe some girls really enjoy, but, to me, often just feel annoying.

He’s a great guy for someone else. But for me, there’s something missing. Our conversations sometimes fall flat. I’ll want to talk about big, deep life things, and he’ll give me light, fluffy responses. After five months, the sex has gotten boring. That’s a very bad sign. Don’t get me wrong — I definitely liked him in the beginning. In fact, I thought I liked him a whole lot. Over time, though, my feelings and level of interest have been waning.

Look. I even made a graph.

You may be wondering why I’ve even let things go on for this long. Here’s the kicker: when Kyle and I spend time with a group of friends, we have a blast together. In part, I’m sure alcohol is to blame for the increased fun factor. Kyle is also sort of charming — group settings are where he shines. It doesn’t hurt that his friends are really fun to hang out with either. Bryan, for example, likes to host things at his house like Homemade Pizza Night or Sushi Night. He keeps telling me about a future Bourbon and Gourmet Grilled Cheese night, which has me written all over it. Holly is into running and yoga and other such things that I’m into, too. His housemate, Nate, is kind of hot and mysterious and I would totally hook-up with him, but I don’t think I can pull off The Switch. Even so, he’s a chill guy and maybe we could just smoke pot together?

My point is, I want to keep hanging out with Bryan and Holly and Nate! They’re cool, fun people. After five months of getting to know them, I think I can call them my friends — or, I’d like to be able to anyway.

Is it possible for me to end things with Kyle, while still being able to be friends with his friends?

Probably not.

And that’s a huge bummer.

Thinking about this also unleashes a slew of additional questions. In this Age of Social Media, what is proper Facebook etiquette for interacting with these friends of my future former fling? Can I still share running events with Holly? Can I still like the GIFs Bryan posts that are always spot-on perfect for whatever situation he’s responding to? Are they going to un-friend me?

This is all small beans really, compared to my past relationships lost as post-Break-Up casualties. My most recent serious relationship was seven years long. Almost eight. Not only did I lose his friends in that one — admittedly, not a huge loss —but I also lost family. I lost nephews and a niece. I miss their smiling blonde faces. I miss being called “Auntie Stella”. It’s a deep, brooding hurt that I don’t think will ever go away, even long after the relationship battle scars have healed.

I’m still Facebook friends with my ex-future sister-in-law, so I see photos of those smiling faces almost daily. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen them in person. The littlest one was too young to remember me then, she surely doesn’t know me now. The other two remember me. I hope they know that every time I told them I loved them, I meant it. I still do. I hope they know that even though I used to hate getting up for their 9 AM soccer games on Saturdays, I would go in a heartbeat now, excitedly, were I invited again.

My ex lost my whole family, too, and I know it stings him. He still sends texts on holidays like, “Tell your family I said Merry Christmas and I miss them”.

I don’t tell them. It’s hard enough as it is.

So, I’m sure I will lose Kyle’s friends right along with Kyle. But, that’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’ve dealt with far worse loss. I’ll find new boys with new friends and families and one day say good-bye to them, too.

We sever these relationship ties and mourn the loss of what we once hoped could be something great. It’s usually not until afterwards that we see the repercussions of everything else we’ve lost: the friends and family we grew to love, too.

And I suppose that’s just a part of life. People enter and exit your life as your timelines intersect, and unfortunately, you can’t go backwards. Time only goes forward, and so you’re left to wonder whether or not your paths will ever intersect again. You might see photos. You might run into them in the supermarket on a cold January evening when you look your worst in your post-gym-workout clothes. And you might exchange pleasantries and then part ways again, left only with a bittersweet reminder of the wonderful memories you share with this person who is now just a blip on your timeline.

* Names have been changed, of course, to protect the innocent.

If you like what you just read, please recommend it and then check out more of my ramblings at https://medium.com/@writingsolo or tweet me @writingsolo.

For other pieces in this Publication, check out
https://medium.com/navigating-the-sea-of-singledom

Written with thanks to The Writing Cooperative, specifically: Harald and Sand Farnia.