A wimp’s break-up how-to ...

Suppose you have a boyfriend. You like this boyfriend. He’s attractive. He carries himself well and shows kindness to children, old people and animals. He makes you laugh so hard you can’t breathe. His brain is fast and broad and he offers thoughts on life in ways that you’ve not considered before. You share your humor and your ideas and the two of you compare notes, adjust your worldview and get up the next day and do it some more.

Jackpot, right?

But say this man is also petty and jealous and refuses to use his amazing brain for good and instead uses it to activate that irrational guilt that you carry (because of course, he spotted that right off). You see your friends less and less because he asks too many questions about what you did and where you went and even phone calls become stressful because you begin to monitor what you say. You notice that he puts a lot of energy into figuring out the best ways to be lazy and get you to do everything for the both of you … because you’re a couple now and couples do things for each other. But of course, you don’t see any of this b.s. until after you’ve moved in together.

Oops.

Say, further, that after some time, more time than you want to admit to, you tire of the subtle emotional manipulations that leave you feeling accountable for everything that happens to the both of you because you let his procrastination rule and life begins to fall apart. You scramble to apologize for each silly offense as he decries his culpability and follow up with, “can you pay for dinner tonight/power this month/the cell bill? I don’t get paid until next Tuesday.”

A stronger woman would ditch him, of course, but you’re not her. You’re the woman who carries a bizarre sense of responsibility to ameliorate his haplessness, his inability (unwillingness) to care for himself. You begin to feel like his mother and the sex, which had been pretty good, begins to wane because … ew. And then you’re wondering what’s left, but you can't bear to hurt him, even as you fantasize getting out.

So, what do you do when you’re too cowardly to break up with this man? Why, you go to the other side of the country to care for your ailing parent and wait for him to get bored without the company of a woman so that he goes in search of a new one. Except that he won’t go looking because he’s not a proactive kind of guy, and you want to be done with him without being the bad guy, so you decide to give him a push.

Shannon.

When he calls and tells you he misses you and your Sunday burgers together, you suggest he go anyway. He enjoys talking with Shannon, your regular server, right? “Go, honey, just go …,” and he does.

And then he goes again the following Sunday, and the one after that and soon he’s telling you all kinds of things about Shannon, and then her dog, and then how she knows a great hike he’s always wanted to take. 

You tell him to “go! enjoy yourself, honey. Your life doesn’t need to stop because I have to be 3,300 miles away.” Of course, your presence on the far coast isn’t really necessary at this point, but it seems useful, and your parent is happy enough to have you hanging around.

One night, you find out Shannon had been invited over to sit on your couch and watch your tv with your boyfriend and you are relieved and you smile.