things left unsaid

what is a breakup but the grief of letting someone go, over and over again

Last Friday I went to pick up some things from an ex’s house, someone I broke up with over a year ago. We agreed to reconnect a few months after the breakup to explore how we could continue being in each other’s lives, but when our “checkin date” rolled around, they sent a letter to tell me they weren’t ready yet. I wrote back and acknowledged that setting a date had been a grasping for control when we broke up, and proposed that we set it free and reconnect when it felt right for both of us.

I had been holding off on asking to get my things because I didn’t want them to think it was an attempt to force a reconnection. But when I reached out, they were unsurprisingly responsive and kind. People had said they probably already gave or threw away my things, and I always thought “you don’t know them”. And sometimes doubt would creep in…would they? Did I ever really know them? But our text exchange to arrange pickup immediately reminded me of what I already knew.

This was the first relationship that taught me someone can be an amazing person and still not be right for us. All of my past breakups were so much simpler because the relationships were so objectively bad. This was the first time I ended a relationship with a gem of a human, a human whose wounds interlocked with mine in a way that was making both of us miserable.

I became a shell of myself as I tried to be less reactive to the patterns in our relationship, but it was beyond repair. I learned that no matter how much you’re “doing the work”, there are some connections that will just be endlessly activating. Those are the connections where the lesson is not “how can I learn and grow in this relationship?”, the lesson is “I now have the autonomy to leave”.

After I picked up my stuff, stacked neatly on their back porch, I sent a text to thank them. I had no idea how to end the message. Despite it all, this is still a person that I loved so deeply at one point, that I still care deeply for now. There was so much I wanted to know about what’s happened over the last year, and so much I wanted to tell them;

my dad got cancer
I’m taking a break from improv
how are the kids?
my friendships are stronger than ever
I’m so proud of you for getting tenure
that promotion turned out to be a bust
what adventures have you been on?
I realized I’m a lesbian
I feel more like myself than I ever have
you seem like you’ve become more of yourself too

When I envisioned that reunion we had agreed upon when we broke up, I could imagine all of this spilling out of me. But then I thought of what it would feel like when we parted ways. Ripping the bandaid off, all over again. Because I know we can’t have a relationship now.

I loved the idea of us figuring out how to be friends, how to continue being a part of each other’s lives. It seems to be this badge of honor to be friends with an ex, especially in the queer community. But I reflected a lot on the simple idea that although love is infinite, time is not. And it’s not just time, it’s mental and emotional space too. So any time and space I might carve out for them is then time and space that is not available for new connections.

It felt callous as I began thinking of it this way, but it made sense. Keeping one foot in the past prevents us from moving forward, and holding on to what was keeps us from seeing what else is possible. I realized wanting more is ok, because it’s not about anyone not being “enough”. It’s simply about us not being the right fit. True unconditional love is wanting the best for someone, even when it doesn’t involve you. And I love them and myself enough to want that for both of us.

So instead of all the things I wanted to tell them, all of the questions I have, everything I want to say about how grateful I am for our time together, I sent

hope you’re doing well 💕