Why Some Relationships aren’t Worth Keeping

BY KCY

“We aren’t on the same page.”

I stared at him incredulously, willing myself not to cry. The chatter around us deafened my ears. Had he really brought me to a public place for happy hour to break up with me? Was it so I wouldn’t make a scene?!

“I don’t get it,” I finally said.

“Well, it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’m sorry, but we just aren’t on the same page,” he repeated. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip, nonchalantly.

 How could he be so casual? It’d been a great three months. We had fun together, had amazing chemistry and I’d thought our relationship was progressing. I guess I was wrong.

“Okay,” I said, and I got up and left. As I left the bar, tears streamed down my face. I went home and cried all night.

That week, I could barely function. I couldn’t help but feel he was wrong. What did he mean we were not on the same page? We were perfect together. I left him messages on his voicemail letting him know how miserable I was, how wrong he was to break up with me.

Finally, on the seventh day post-“we aren’t on the same page” talk, he showed up at my door unannounced.

“You’re right. I was wrong,” was all he said, before we hugged and reunited.

He was perfect for two weeks. And then his birthday came.

“So, what are we doing for your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing big. I’m having a party,” he said casually. A party? He’d never mentioned a party.

“When is it? Do you need help?” I asked.

“Nah,” he said, “Everything is set. You know, I don’t think it’s a good idea if you go. There’s going to be a lot of people there, and you don’t know any of them. So, it’s best for you not to go.”

I looked at him. Rejected again?

“Um, okay,” I said.

So, I didn’t go. And, I thought I was fine with it. A week after his birthday, he came to me again.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t think we are on the same page,” he said, “but Happy Valentine’s Day!” He handed me a box of chocolates.

I threw the box of chocolates at him. I cried again all night.

This wasn’t how relationships were supposed to be. This back and forth. This up and down. Relationships were supposed to be happy. Steady. Supportive. This wasn’t what I wanted.

But, somehow, I still couldn’t shake him. I couldn’t let go.

I called him again all week and again, we reunited on the seventh day post-“we aren’t on the same page”.

This roller coaster continued for another two years. It didn’t stop because I decided I was through riding the roller coaster, but because he moved out of the country.

Once he left, it took me a long time to figure out why this had happened. Why had I stayed in a relationship (or not really a relationship according to him) for so long? Here’s why:

I undervalued me.

I let him define my worth. I let him make me feel small in the relationship. I accepted whatever he was willing to give me, even though I deserved so much more.

I didn’t want another failure.

I couldn’t reconcile with another failed relationship. So, I fought to make it work. To fit a peg in a square hole. But it was so evident that it wasn’t working time and time again. I couldn’t accept that it’s okay to cut your losses and move on. It’s not giving up. It’s just finding the round hole for the peg.

I was in love with a happy ending.

I love fairy tales. I love Hallmark movies during Christmas. Happily ever afters. I still do. But, now I realize there isn’t one trajectory to a happily ever after. Sometimes the course is not a straight road, but a windy one with detours. Because of this relationship, I actually met my now husband.

He didn’t (and I didn’t) respect my space.

He wouldn’t leave me alone. Even when he was breaking up with me, he would come back. He wouldn’t let me have my space to heal. Because he didn’t respect that I needed space to heal. It took a whole continent and ocean finally. But it wasn’t completely his fault. I invited him, practically begged him, to invade my space.

The drama was exciting.

Even though most of me hated being on that roller coaster, a part of me relished in the thrill. The highs and the lows. The passion and the anguish. The emotional extremes somehow reminded me I was alive. But you can’t live at extremes. Drama doesn’t equal happiness.

I’m happy he moved. I’d like to think I would’ve realized he was right and that we weren’t on the same page, but I’m not sure. But trust me, some relationships aren’t worth your time