Pondering (or: change)

Almost 30 years into my life, I'm living in a place I can see myself staying. I have amazing friends in a number of cities and all of them add something different and spectacular to my life -- from a friend who called me out tonight (you know who you are -- THANKS!) upon realizing that I was doing a very good job of fooling myself, to the folks who have made me laughed or talked trash with me...they rock. My family is great, my job is great, my apartment is overpriced but great...basically, I'm happy. Very happy, even.

The weird thing? With so much consistency and fantastic-ness in my life, I've been thinking a lot about change. About beginnings and endings, transitions, and people coming in and out of my life. One thing I keep coming back to, and I'm not sure why? The ending to my relationship with Ross.

We'd been dating for quite a while, me and Ross -- and had literally never had any notable issues -- when it occurred to both of us that there were several things standing in the way of us continuing our relationship. I was leaving Sydney to move back to the US (and had tried, but failed, to get a working visa to stay for a while longer). He was staying in Sydney for quite a bit before heading back to Scotland, to his house and job. If our relationship had been "it" for either of us, one of us would have moved; as it was, although we were really happy and never had any issues, it just wasn't one that was...going all the way, I guess.

That said, neither one of us was quite ready to let go, so we came up with a plan. We decided that six months after I left, when he'd be flying back to Scotland, he'd fly through the US and we'd meet up (over New Year's, even -- I had such a movie-esque picture in my head!) and figure out what to do next, if anything. In the interim? We were both allowed to see other people and didn't have to report on our activities; we were going to keep in close touch, but weren't going to be tied exclusively to one another.

With all of that settled, the last night I was in Sydney was pretty relaxed. A bunch of good friends met up at my local for drinks, and we settled in for a night which in most ways felt like any other. We drank a bit too much, took some photos, laughed and headed home. Jacynth was, at the time, in between apartments and staying at mine -- and great person that she is, she grabbed her blankets and went to sleep on a (really small) living room couch so that I could have a final night with Ross.

The next morning, after we...talked...Ross got up to head to work. I was absolutely freaked out about leaving and had, in fact, been having what I later realized were panic attacks -- the only time in my life I've had those -- for a month or so prior to the departure date. In an effort to be cool, though, I walked out with him onto the breezeway leading out of my apartment and made small, non-serious talk.

I remember clearly that he told me I was the most amazing girlfriend he'd ever had, and that he kissed me and gave me a great hug. I also remember clearly that I knew I was about to break down and that in order to remain as cool as possible, I kissed him back, hugged him back and then made some stupid joke and slapped him on his very flat Scottish ass as he walked out the door. Yes, folks, the last thing I did was slap his butt. Really.

The period of time after I got back to Detroit was one of the hardest I can remember. I was thrilled to see my family and friends, but struggled with not being where I wanted to be (which was in Sydney) and having no way to get back there on a long-term basis. I'd been forced to leave before I was ready to go and it was hard. I didn't want to dwell on it or be miserable -- and I really was having a good time catching up with people and figuring out what was next -- but it was hard.

Even harder, though? Talking to Ross every few days.  I got into a rather unhealthy cycle where I'd talk to him and be thrilled, stay happy for a few hours after, and then get incredibly sad by the next day as I realized the talking every few days wasn't enough...but that I also didn't feel like either of us should move to try making it work. And so I did something which I still think was the right decision, but which was hard (and honestly, which I occasionally regret now): I called Ross one last time and told him it was just too hard for me to keep talking to him without getting to be with him.

You know the saying, "be careful what you wish for"? I learned the meaning of it that year, as I broke down and both emailed and called Ross a few times. To be honest, I emailed him as recently as a year or so ago -- although the most recent time, just to check in and see how he was doing -- and I've never heard from him. Not one peep since I told him it was too hard for me.

For a while, my feelings were really hurt by his lack of response to my efforts to get in touch. Now, though? I see that him not being in touch was the best possible thing he could have done for me. I see that it was done with care, and that he did it because I didn't have the strength; I don't doubt for a second how much he cared about me and I have to appreciate that he, in the end, respected my wishes even if he didn't agree with them.

I honestly have no idea what my point is here, but I've been thinking about this lately for some reason -- in as scattered a way as I typed it here -- and just wanted to write it down.

Comments

[Alissa]

It's so good to get all of these thoughts out there. Ross sounds like such a fantastic person, I wish I could have met him!

[Karl]

Don't know why, but this makes me sad. In retrospect, do you wish one of you had moved to be with the other?

[Bre]

It's such a challenge, isn't it? To know someone is out there who was good for you, but impractical. Mine's Jay. Sigh.

[kapgar]

I'm sure it was just a matter of him not wanting to make it more painful for either of you than it already was. He was thinking long term fix moreso than the quick fix you were seeking by e-mailing him. Just consider it a favor and move on. That's probably the best strategy to deal with this.

[Erin]

Writing helps remembering, especially the lessons of the past. Sounds like healthy resolution to me.

[sandra]

Alissa -- me too!

Karl -- I don't, actually. I absolutely adored him, full stop, and it did break my heart that it didn't work...but that said (and I don't know if this'll make sense) what we had was somehow not quite enough. He was actually #3 on this one: http://internalmonoblog.typepad.com/internalmonoblog_the_webl/2007/01/index.html

Bre - a big old yes!

Kevin - totally. And I've definitely moved on; I just tend to "keep" people in my life, and I think it throws me occasionally that someone who meant so much to me at one point is now someone whose address I don't even know.

ER - aww, thanks.

[Elaine]

I've always found that when things are on my mind, the best thing to do is get it out on paper (or a blog). It's great that you've got someone like that whom you had a mutual appreciation with. Not everyone's as lucky!

[mysterygirl!]

These are important people to have in your life. You're lucky to have had a Ross. It's also really nice that you know that you wouldn't have been a perfect match-- even though the break-up can still be really hard, it's good to return to that in your less emotional moments. Then you can enjoy what you had, in that moment, without having to connect it to your present or wishing for the future.

I don't know where I'm going with this comment, but I did like this post a lot.

[Dustin]

How do these people in our past find their way into our thoughts so often?

[Brooke]

I still think about my Aussie relationship often as well. Sometimes I regret how things ended, and other times I realize it was the best thing. Depends on my mood.

By the way, the only panic attack I have ever had in all my life was also in Sydney! What's up with that??

[moodswingingmommy]

I have a friend who is going through something quite similar right now, only the female version of "Ross" in his life is not honoring his request for closure.

Ross sounds like a wonderful man, who no doubt spared you much pain. It's sad when it doesn't work out, though.