we got in a fight on canada day. i’d been feeling upset because i felt you’d been taking advantage of me. i felt like you only contacted me to ask me for things or to do things for you. i felt like you didn’t care about me anymore.
you didn’t even want to make plans with me on canada day. i had the day off and was hoping we could spend time downtown and catch the fireworks. you were pretty disinterested.
we ended up being downtown together anyway. we had dinner with friends. on the way back downtown i reached out for your hand and you dramatically swung it away from me. i almost told you to go fuck yourself. it was pretty embarrassing to have your partner do something so ridiculous in public like that. the amount of rejection i was feeling from you was pretty unreal. you said your hand hurt from some bad hangnails. i didn’t really understand why it was necessary to flail around about it.
we went to my house in the evening and finished a movie. afterwards i read a chapter from a chuck klosterman book to you and we sat in the living room in silence. you said something like “we should talk about the fight we had last night, it doesn’t seem like you’re feeling comfortable”. there was so much tension between us.
we started talking. i got emotional. you were fed up with me. i couldn’t say it, but i was fed up with you telling me what i was doing wrong all the time. i just wanted some affection. you didn’t seem too interested. why couldn’t you just be nice to me? i was so hurt and confused.
we were supposed to go camping with friends that weekend. you told me you weren’t coming. you told me to have fun. you said you were still my girlfriend but i had to get my shit together.
while i was away on the weekend i started to realize that our power balance was totally fucked up. you held all the cards. i felt like i knew how to get some of that back. it would take time and honesty. it would be hard but it would be worth it.
it was pouring rain on the morning after i got back from camping. i had the day off. you emailed me to say we should get together later that day. your wording was suspicious and there was no subject in your email. i knew it was bad. i emailed you to say that i’d be home all day. you wrote that you’d be over really soon. you never would have biked to my house in the rain for anything other than bad news. i tried to talk myself out of thinking that’s what would happen.
i put on bon iver, curled up with a book, and waited for you.
you came in. you sat at the foot of my bed. i told you a little bit about the weekend. i asked you how you were doing. you started to cry. i asked if you were there for the reason i thought you were. you nodded. you were crying harder. i asked you if you thought this was it. you nodded. you were weeping. i hugged you. i cried out. you stood up and said you had to go. you told me that i was awesome. you ran down the stairs. i followed you in my boxers and a t-shirt. i stood in the front door and watched you pedal your bike away in the pouring rain.
you looked back at me in my boxers and laughed.
“i can’t believe we broke up to bon iver,” you said a day or two later.
it would take weeks for you to realize you couldn’t control the distance between us enough to fix things. it would take me even more weeks to realize you weren’t coming back to me. and it took weeks more for us to get to the point where we didn’t want to talk to each other anymore.
well, we do. we just can’t.
we only hurt one another now.