3aib! And The City.

An everyday girl who happens to be a psychologist

It's Not Me, It's You. No, Really - Part 2

9th March 2012 - 3 mins read

I still remember it like it was yesterday.

I met up with Charles in the evening that night as agreed and I had spent the entire day with my heart lodged in the depth of my throat. The thing is with instinct is you just know something is coming your way. I like saying that instinct is a God-granted compass to human beings that guides us through our ways in the face of the unknown. And that night, I knew Charles was going to end our relationship, despite the lack of precedent to give him reason to do so.

I saw Charles that night with a pounding heart and a trembling voice. It wasn’t the inevitable break up that shook me (remember, just three weeks prior I had suggested to him that we break up) but it was the fact that I couldn’t imagine what his reason would be. When I told him we should end our picture-perfect beautiful relationship because we wanted different things, he panicked, refused and closed the subject as impossible. So why was I sitting here with a Starbucks latte in my hand across from that same guy waiting for him to end it?

Charles spoke and I listened. But I didn’t understand a word he was saying. He looked like someone who was in deep pain and incapable of finding enough words to express it. We had been together for seven months and for the first time in our relationship, he looked at me and said: “I love you.” It was the first time I had heard a guy who wasn’t a friend say those three words to me and my heart sank as I gave him a broken smile. I was filled with joy and buried with pain because I was looking at my perfect man for the last time. He was everything I wanted and now he was letting me go.

In the spew of incoherent speech he was giving, I looked at him and said: “I don’t understand. Are you breaking up with me?” I was confused beyond reason. I suggested we go elsewhere so we could talk in solitude. In peace.

We went to a nearby park and spent about three hours talking. He gave me a lengthy explanation of why we couldn’t be together and I agreed, considering I cited the same reasons to him just three weeks back. I met Charles three months after he had moved to my city from Europe and so much time down the line, he was still unsure of his decision. Further, when he had moved, he had a career objective to fulfill that didn’t account for getting into a serious relationship. He said that all this had caused a disturbance in his mind. But the biggest cause of distress, according to Charles, was that he couldn’t stomach the thought of “hurting the sweetest girl he had ever met.” I remember he said to me: “I will never ever meet another girl like you, and if you ever hear that I said that about another girl, then know I am lying.”

It was a very heartfelt three hours of my life that I will never forget. It was a bittersweet ending to a perfect relationship at the worst possible time. But we both agreed we had to let it go. Charles said the turning point for him was when his brother met me and spent time with me, he told him: “Do what you will in your life but don’t ever hurt her. She’s the last person on Earth to deserve that.”

Charles asked me as we got ready to say our final goodbyes if we could still be friends. I refused. I could never be friends with someone I cared for so much. He gave me a hug, got out of my car and drove off.

I only cried after he left my car, but they were tears of sadness, not hurt. I knew our time was up and I was completely accepting of the break up. It was the right thing for us both.

But the worst was yet to come.

Kisses and hugs,