Crash

photo credit: iaanhughes.com

It‘s happened. I was right not to feel secure in my relationship.

Mr Nice was ever so nice, even as he told me it was over.

It didn’t really start out as a breaking-up conversation, but then again, these things rarely do. No, it was more of an I-need-to-tell-you-how-I-feel sort of conversation.

And what Mr Nice feels is very ambiguous, because on the one hand, he feels good when he is with me, and I basically make him happy, on the other hand he doesn’t feel like committing. And this stresses him out because of our children (his and mine), and the responsibility they represent.

One thing surprised, and pleased me in a funny way: He said he was really appreciative that I did not pressure him at all. So even though the end result is no different, it wasn’t because of my insecurity. And it is a relief to at least not feel responsible for my own unhappiness.

Anyway, I felt strangely detached at first, as I watched things play out almost in slow motion: His worried face, “we need to talk”, his tears, the closeness that comes from a good heart-to-heart, followed by an artificial drift opening between us.

There is something absurd, surreal about break-ups. The way one minute you are a couple and the next, you are two exes. You start using the past tense to talk about the two of you, to think about the things you need to return to each other, and practical consequences, but nothing is real yet. You haven’t yet seen their face everywhere, heard the deafening silence of your telephone, or missed their touch, their voice.

All this is yet to come.

Only the next morning did I actually start crying, and listening to this song on a loop: Eiffel – Place de mon coeur (place of my heart). You have to click on the link, which will open a new window and click on the play icon down the page. A bit of an effort, but well worth it if you want to hear some of the best stuff French rock has to offer.