I got dumped last month, and it was rough. We’d been growing apart for weeks, but I figured it was something we could work through. Turns out, I was wrong. She wasn’t interested in salvaging what I’d thought would be a lifetime together.
No, something better had come along, and she knew she wanted it.
Still, I held onto the thought that we could still somehow save our relationship. After all, she’d told me she loved me. A lot. We’d sworn we’d be together forever.
And then she said the shiny new thing wanted her to move in. But they weren’t together. Oh no. It was just a change of scenery was all, and couldn’t we still be friends?
I knew before she did, I guess. I was getting dumped for something new and exciting. How could I not know? Everything had become about this new woman and what she liked. We stopped talking, because she was always texting away. When we did speak, it was tense.
I wasted a lot of tears on this, last month. Now, when she tells me it’s official, she expects me to react. As if. I saw this happening the night you called it quits in the WalMart parking lot. Hell, I saw this happening the week after Christmas, and I probably should have seen it sooner.
So don’t look at me like that when I offer a chilly “I’m happy for you” as you tell me that you’re with another woman. You didn’t have to tell me at all, because I already knew. Stop fishing for reactions, and let me pull my life out of the gutter alone. You post cute things on Facebook about how a woman builds up walls brick by brick, how you know you’ve found someone when they’ll help you tear them down.
Congratulations on becoming another brick in the wall. Another lesson hard-learned. I hope you’re happy.
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