Plz Stop Calling Me – It’s Over

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sad chefYou called me crying again last night. You’re sorry for all of this. Your relationships keep failing because you can’t get over me. You’re sick; you might go blind. You don’t want to die without seeing me one more time. You’re clean now. You miss your family. You miss me. Please let’s try one more time.

I find it absolutely nuts that when you and I first broke up, I would have given anything in this world to hear exactly those words. They wouldn’t have been true then either, but back then, I was taking what I could get. Now, they just make me sad.

Yes. I avoid your calls. It isn’t because the memories of all of this hurt me so much. Not entirely, anyways. No. I don’t take your calls because believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you anymore. But you keep forgetting that what was done between us can never be undone. You can’t have the parts of our past back that were so happy because the ending changed us both. Put simply, those people don’t exist anymore.

You get mad because I bring up The Moment of Choice whenever you are able to finally get me on the phone. I don’t remind you out of some warped need for revenge. I remind you cheating-quote-quotesbecause you lose sight sometimes about why all of this is happening to you. We stood, you, me, and Tanya, in our living room, in the little house I had found and fixed up for us, and answered, once and for all, The Question. You had spent months lying to both of us, telling me how you were trying to fix this mess you’d created — telling her I was just a crazy bitch trying to break you two up. So we stood there, the three of us, and I told you, now. Now is when you will pick which path you’re going to head down. You didn’t even think much about it. I remember feeling sick, knowing you weren’t taking me seriously.You pointed to Tanya, and told me you were sorry. She was who you loved. And I told you, then that is the decision we both have to live with now. I walked out of our little house, left everything we’d spent 20 years collecting together, and drove away. It was at that moment, I began the long, hard struggle to cut our bonds to one another. You’d damaged them, but I needed them severed.

Nothing about that moment was light for me. I accepted then that what we had was gone now, relegated to the shadowy mist of memory. You and Tanya’s relationship ended rather quickly after that day, and you spent a few months trying desperately to recapture her interest. I know. I watched. You moved on to Helena, then to others. All the while, you would call me and tell me you wanted me back. And each time I told you, no. You chose a different path.

sad girlYour new girlfriends seem to find it necessary to contact me whenever you guys break up with each other, to put in a good word for you. I can’t begin to tell you how strange and bizarre I find these conversations. That’s just plain creepy. They tell me you will never be happy with anyone but me; they know because they’ve tried. Here’s a news flash — getting back together isn’t an option for you because that would require me being open to the idea, and I’m not.

Please make them stop doing that. I don’t want to hear from your girlfriends. It doesn’t help. I don’t believe it is true that our happiness rests solely on another person; not if we don’t want it to. I can’t take you back. You think things in your life will be fixed if you can just return back to the woman you left in the first place, but you’re wrong. And maybe it is rather selfish of me, but I am not willing to suffer a martyr-like existence in a relationship with you. I am sorry, but you had your chance. Actually, you had a year’s worth of them, and you didn’t choose me then. You only want me now because I think it has actually finally sunk in — I’m gone, and I’m never, ever coming back.

I want you to move on. I hope you find happiness and peace, but not enough to sacrifice mine for yours. You will either bounce back or you won’t. Either way, that’s on you.

Please don’t make me hurt you anymore. I really don’t enjoy it.

~ Bird

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Author: Catherine aka "Bird"

Marketing Specialist Recruiter Freelance Writer Blogger

24 thoughts on “Plz Stop Calling Me – It’s Over”

  1. Takes a deep breath..woo weee I mean really..really man..People think they can walk back into you life after they strip you bare and leave you questioning your sanity. I did that twice about 5 years ago..took him back (Insanity repeating the same behavior and expecting different results)
    Proud of ya girl..I know its hard not to go back to someone ya gave your heart and soul to..for that brief moment ya remember the good times..and the that reality slaps ya upside the head..lol

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  2. Oh my, reading this made me think back to a few days ago, where my ex phoned wanting to speak to my (our) son. I could hear the entire conversation, the promises he made, telling my (our) son that he’s going to be the best dad ever and and and…I got so upset that I took the phone and gave the asshole on the other side a piece of my mind. How dare he make all sorts of promises to a 5 year old!? How dare he think, that after what he has done and after months of neglect he can just easily walk back in and everything will be okay. HELL FUCKING NO!!!!! Not even over my dead body!!!! So I feel your frustration, not even changing your number will help, believe me I’ve tried…Just stick to you guns and if he wants to get hurt every single time, then that’s on him and not you. ~~~ Soam

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  3. Bird, long time (Its Annie), but he STILL wants back in your life? I’m sure you’ve tried the obvious of not initiating contact. He sounds like he does know that you don’t want ANY type of relationship. So, when he does call, he MUST be in an altered state of concsiousness where he is completely unaware of what he is doing. Doing to you, doing to the kids. DOING.

    Is he drunk when he calls? Is he on meds (manic depression) and went off of them? I’m not a mental health person, but that could explain it; but there’s also the possibility (please forgive if it hurts) that there is something that you say that keeps him coming back.

    Sort of your saying ‘NO’ to him; And to him, ‘NO’ means ‘yes’ or ‘NO’ is the new yes.

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    1. I second what has been said by iamthatpersonwhoalreadyknows (what a mouthful!!) but better advice I couldn’t come up with. Drama can make for bad or wierd behavior. Bird, I wish you well!!

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  4. is it your mobile or a landline he is reaching you on? Can you block his number? Or change your number although that would mean being sure no one would give him the new one. the fact these new girlfriends are a clear indication he is lying about what went on, lets face it if he told them the truth pretty sure they would call you up and say good on ya, you go girl not take him back. Maybe you will have to find a way to get it through to him even if it hurts him, and I know you don’t want to hurt him because you are a far nicer person than me, I would just start getting random guys to answer my phone when I saw his number out of spite😀

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      1. Dear Bird, dear lady, dear heart. I haven’t looked in here for a long time, and I’m stunned to read this. Please, you are making this hard, much too hard. I’m not just waltzing in here, I know, I’ve followed through great steaming gobs of what and where and how, and you have done all you possibly can and It Is Enough.

        It’s very simple. When you hear his voice say “I’m sorry, goodbye” and put the phone down. When you hear the girlfriend’s voice say “I’m sorry, goodbye” and put the phone down. You have been generous, you have been principled, you have been straightforward. I will stop short of saintly though in spots I suspect you have been. There is nothing he can say to you that will do anything more than cause you both pain. There is nothing that you can say to him because the things that need to be said he has to say to himself. He is bound for where only he knows or can do anything about. He may be dry, so to say but he’s not sober, and the monster that *he is allowing* to eat him will eat anything, anything that you allow it to. If you still love him, calmly and gently and finally close the door to him now. Everything you have fed the monster has gone down the drain, it’s not coming back. You cannot appease it. The simple fact is that there is ultimately NOTHING that is as important to him as avoiding facing his fear of of facing truth and experiencing *today* the pain of today’s mistakes. He will have good intentions but deep inside he knows that he will betray them, and you, and any and every thing and emotion and person you hold dear *that you allow him to* and that knowledge is a vicious cycle. It’s on him now. Weep for him, but show him a dry eye and a calm Good Day and a closed ear, eye, door, window. If you have shared responsibilities, he can talk to your representative or lawyer. He is trying to suck your blood to appease the monster and it’s on you not to let him do it because the monster cannot be appeased, only faced.

        I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but you’ve gotten caught in it and lost some detachment. If he shows up. leave. If he speaks, be kind and brief: sorry, goodbye. That is the only love you can give him, of gently but firmly extinguishing every last spark of possibility that he is worming around to find, because if there is a loophole the size of a piece of thread he will find it and pry it open and perpetuate this. He cannot help himself from trying and he needs to be shown there is none. No malice, no anger, and no access.

        If you want to talk I’m happy to, I know this monster from within and without, so to say. You’ve given me a lot, I’m happy to give some back if you need.

        I’m sure this would be better if I went back and edited and took a third of it out, but I’m not going to.🙂

        David Beierl

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        1. Thank you for the clarity, David. I know you’re right, and actually, it isn’t all that hard to do exactly what you suggest. He’s better off moving on too, and that is what helps me. He doesn’t actually need me to be happy. I don’t need him to be happy. I think I really am going to be just fine.🙂

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          1. “it isn’t all that hard” — Depending on your internal state and what you have left that you need/want to tell him or hit him with it it may be easy or hard or devastating, but however hard it is I promise two things: 1) everything else is harder, and 2) it gets much easier with practice. His goal it to get you to engage in some way, to respond with passion of some sort. Yours is to refuse that engagement, to be dispassionate and calm and polite and unresponsive and .

            It is supremely important to get this right every single time, because if he can sting you one time in a hundred he will continue forever.** And you need to understand that whether he realizes it or not,

            –> success on the monster’s terms is making sure that you are no less unhappy than he is. <–

            Success on your terms, for your happiness and possibly his salvation, is to lie dead, to respond to no provocation with the slightest shred of emotion, to simply refuse to play this game. Letters returned unopened. Calls, left talking to an empty line but never simply hanging up, always the neutral polite disengage. He may think it's unjust for you do close the door this way, but ultimately there's nothing for the monster to feed on, you are being gentlemanly. You may be going out to a target range with pictures of his head, but that's between you and you as long as you keep it so. But the slightest shred of something that he can plausibly construe as active unfairness will feed the unholy triad of anger, fear, and false pride and let him excuse (to himself) disproportionately worse behavior, possibly to the point of being dangerous. Dear God, I wish I didn't know any of this.

            Ah — a conceivably useful tidbit. I'm firmly convinced that my former wife and I were made for each other, but the fact remains that we didn't have a snowball's chance, because I had an existential need for deep intimacy, and she had an existential need for nobody to close that last quarter-inch, because then her secret would be known and she would die — and it's richly ironic to me that by the time we deem it safe to discover our own secrets, they're old hat to the people who know us. We're both strong, so it took us a long time to wear ourselves to uselessness against each other, and one fundamental difference was that I volunteered for every day of it but she felt trapped. At a particular point toward the end of our odyssey I really thought I was going crazy, and one day I was wondering how two bright resourceful people could make such a spectacular failure at coming together; and it occurred to me to wonder what if it's not a failure? Is there a success here? I surely wasn't succeeding, but suppose she is…and suddenly I realized that if I simply ignored every word that had come out of her mouth for the difficult parts of the last fifteen years, the surrealistic chaos disappeared and was replaced by an implacable consistency. And now the words made sense too, if I took them as simply whatever seemed likely in the moment to get me to either be quiet or go away. I wasn't at all pleased with this discovery, but at least the universe suddenly resumed its normal shape. And it turns out that someone who's been sober for many dedicated years and conspicuously treats the people around her well and leaves them happier than she found them, can still be vulnerable to the job description of husband, the very definition of which is traveling that last quarter inch.

            It's funny — my life was accidentally shredded by well-meaning people when I was five, and it reverberated down the years. Bad things happened and much worse might have. The motto I triumphantly flaunt to cover my life between age say twelve and twenty seven is "Nobody Died!" and I am bloody grateful for that. It was way too close. I'll be 65 in a few weeks and it's taken me most of that to become someone I could like — and I'm still a lot too much like a half-stomped-on beetle, busted and leaking and taking all its time just to cross the street. I only tried to suicide once, at sixteen; but there is not a year in my life since age five save the last one where the joy/sorrow account has come close to balancing. [Poor pitiful me ]. I’ve betrayed others’ trust and mine has been betrayed again and again in some horrendous ways. But there have been no villains. Only people, mostly treating other folks as well as they could with the selves they had available to them at the time. Knowing the rotten things I’ve been capable of makes it a lot easier to know that every one of is capable of astonishing good and wretched evil; and say “there but for the grace of God go I” and mean it. Knowing the things I’ve been saved from having on my conscience leaves me right now in the odd position of believing more firmly in guardian angels than I do in God. And there’s a fair amount of that I couldn’t have articulated two years ago. Truly, youth is wasted on the young.

            We’re all sinners.

            You’ll be fine. And in complicated situations we mostly get what we truly want, so it pays to be as honest with ourselves as we can about what that really is. It saves surprises.

            David

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