I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday.
I know, I know. You didn’t even know I had a boyfriend. Sorry about that. There are some things I keep to myself.
I’m only bringing it up because it was – by far – the strangest break-up I’ve ever been involved in.
First of all, I’ve never been on that side of the break-up. I’ve never really been the one to say, “Hey, this isn’t working out for me.” I was really nervous about it. I ran through my list of reasons in my head all morning as I waited for our lunch date. When he sent the text to say he was downstairs, I took my time because I thought I might vomit from nerves.
Walking out into the sunshine, I took a seat on the step next to him. I said the words, and he agreed. He’d been feeling the same way. He said he still likes me, but feels we want different things out of the relationship.
Then the tears started to fall. Not heavy sobs or anything, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming. I had psyched myself up for some big something, and I think it just got the best of me. Plus, the end of any relationship is hard on me.
He asked if I still wanted to get lunch, and I said yeah. We walked to the restaurant, split a burger, and talked. Just like usual. I mentioned wanting to see the new The Evil Dead movie and he asked if I wanted to see it with him.
So we’re going to the movie while my son is at his dad’s house for the weekend.
Because my life is strange.
I can’t decide.