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May 18, 2017

“Maybe we should leave it at that.” She’s the one who said it first, but I it had become clear to both of us that we were out of sync on some important factors. There had been some friction between us for a little while; to vastly simplify, she felt like I wasn’t making her a priority, and I felt like she didn’t have respect for some of my choices and abilities. And I won’t say my new day trading endeavor was the whole reason we finally broke up, but it was a factor.

I hope you’ll indulge me if this is what I write about today, though it’s my most personal post yet, and my thoughts and feelings aren’t fully formed.

I mean, I get it. I fully admit I’m rebuilding my life from the ground up right now. And trading is a high risk, high reward kind of thing no matter how confident I am. Put those two together and I’m not exactly a stable, predictable financial prospect. And not that it was a question of her saying, look, choose, an office job or me, but if I had or was looking for that kind of stability, it would have gone a long way. The other issues were things we could work on and improve. This is a difference in goals, at least in short term goals. To see a future together, she needs stability. While I’m in this phase of rebuilding my life and rewriting my story, aiming high and really going for something–rather than yet again failing to even try to realize my potential for big things–is crucial for me. It’s a little uncomfortable to find some kinship with Bobby Axelrod, but in terms of aiming big and being comfortable with risk, I’m right there with him at the moment. And not everyone is.

Which is why she said it, and why I didn’t argue with her.

At our best, I felt like she was the Lara Axelrod to my Bobby. We were locked in, loyal, supportive, pushing each other to be our best. I didn’t think I’d find someone I wanted an actual relationship with for a long time, if ever. But I did. And there were times I could see it going all the way. That’s the part of me that didn’t want to “leave it at that.” The part of me that wanted to run after her as she walked, crying, out my door. It’s sad. I’m sad. I hate that I couldn’t be what she needed. That we couldn’t be what each other needed, I guess. Not every relationship has the potential to be one of the great ones, but it seemed like this one did. I’ll miss the shit outta her, and outta being with her.

And it’s rough, the soul searching that comes. If I’d had my shit more together than I currently do, would it have been different? I’m getting closer all the time, and I honestly believe I’ll keep moving up, but I’m still waist deep in the process. Maybe if we’d met a year down the road I’d have been in a better, more adequate place. Hell, maybe I could have done more up to this point. It’s a stark reminder of how low I’ve been and how far I still need to rise to be worth being with for the long term. It’s a lot to ask of someone to bet on me making it where I want to go, though having someone believe in me would itself be helpful and wonderful. I suppose I’m not young enough to deserve faith from a woman based on potential. I should work on getting a track record worth betting on.

I’m reminded of Hedwig, with all those layers of wigs and costumes, worried that if someone saw her as she was without all that they’d be repelled. Goddamn it sucks for the problem to be that someone starts getting to know you better, the real you. To hear someone say I thought you were something different at first–now that I know what you really are, I’m out.

Of course, there are things I could have hoped for about how she might have been different too. We were definitely to the point of starting to think about whether it could last for the long haul, and we would have had to figure some things out for me to be entirely comfortable.

So yeah. I wish I had a neat little wrap up paragraph for this post. But I don’t, just like I don’t have one for the relationship.

From → Navel Gazing

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