Break.

I've been having a hard time figuring out how to write this post. It's weeks (months, really) overdue, but I just haven't known what to say. How much to say. How little.

Elle and I have broken up. I initiated the break up, and not in a way that I am proud of. I made mistakes in how I ended things, and thought the pain and hurt I've been silently enduring for many months would soften, if not justify, the way things ended. But of course, things don't happen that way. Of course not. 

So the way we broke up wasn't good. It was, in fact, bad. And I am to blame for that.

But, the reasons at the core of it all? Those have been there for a long time. We should have ended things sooner. We were both scared. Stubborn, maybe. I wanted it to work. I'm not a quitter. This is a problem that I very much need to work on. I saw ending the relationship as a failure on my part. As a negation of our time together, of the sacrifices and work that have gone into the past 3.5 years. 

That's not the right way to think about a relationship, and when it should end.

And yet, that's where I was. I wanted to wait it out. I KNOW that relationships are hard, take work, are not always wonderful and lovely and easy. But I think I forgot that they SHOULD always feel safe. Even when things are hard. Even when there is work to do.

I forgot that.

So things ended in a way that was born of feeling scared, trapped, avoidant, lonely, sad. Things should have ended differently, but the result is the same. We have broken up. I feel it is what we both needed.

Our timing was always off. We could never get in sync. That is heartbreaking to me, but it is so, so very true.

I want us both to be happy. I want us both to feel safe and held.

I hope we both find that.

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