And so, my most beautiful and gracious best friend, I am with as much sincerity writing this to both you and myself as I was that night two and a half years ago when I was awake from jellyfish poisoning in a stuffy hotel room in Don Guan, China.
Today, I got a haircut. My new stylist (who is amazing) was telling me about her perfect fairytale romance and how it is the thing she never thought possible in life. I (somewhat begrudgingly) described how my sister met her husband in the cheesiest and sweetest possible way, and I told her how these true stories always cause me to rethink things.
When she asked about my love life, I quickly change the subject for lack of anything nice to say, really. I thought of all the conversations you and I have shared, and I thought of that night I wrote to you, and what I tried to say as gently as possible.
I wanted to tell you that you deserve better - you deserve the world, actually - and I also knew that no one could fully know your situation but you. I did mention, however, that if he didn't notice that your lip gloss smelled like raspberries, he would probably miss out on even bigger, more important details. And if he didn't point out how absolutely beautiful you are right after you wake up, when your hair is in your face and the light is in your eyes and you fight to force a smile and say "good morning;" if the first thing he mentions is not that he is the luckiest man in the world, then there's a good chance he never will realize this. I tried to say that catering to his insecurities is both unnecessary and degrading. I wanted you to know that it is his honor to spend a moment with you, and it is his duty to let you know he is aware of this. I meant to tell you that if you ever slave away in your kitchen, making him your famous potato soup (you know what I'm talking about), that it would be a privilege and NEVER an expectation. Because if he doesn't see the effort you put into beautiful jewelry you make for your friends, then he is never going to see how much love you pour into the lives of others. And if he cannot respect and support your chosen career, then he isn't man enough to love a woman who might not need him. And, if at the end of a hard day, he doesn't first ask about yours before whining about his, then he clearly considers you second-rate.
A few weeks ago, I was alarmed. You said, "I deserve better; I am over this," and you moved on in the way only you do; I envied your balls.
Not so long ago, I was on a date with a fantastic guy. He seemed to be just what I needed, and everything added up except for the fact that I felt nothing for him. I tried, throughout the evening, to return his affection, because he was so promising. But the later it became, the more annoyed I was by the way he talked and how he asked invasive questions. The more I wished he would take me home, the bitchier I became until I realized I was the absolute worst version of myself. Still, he persisted and told me how great he thought I was, and I couldn't help but thinking, "this guy MUST BE an idiot."
So that situation was on my mind recently when I was trying to sort some things out and conclude why this more recent great guy was so moody; and then the truth hit me like million tiny pebbles, pelting me all at once - not only in my heart, but all over my body (because I think that would hurt, if they all hit at once). And I parked my car and said aloud, "I...must be...an idiot."
Let's not fool ourselves here, my dear friend. There is better. You said it to me on Sunday, and on Wednesday I came to a conclusion: I am right there with you.
It's been so long since that night. I remember how ill I felt; how I changed my hair color and marveled that people can change. (We have since established that people do not, in fact, change.) There was no resemblance of love in his jealousy and possessiveness, but a part of me wanted to believe that if he was territorial, it was because he wanted me. Still, that night, I said to both you and myself that if he is not fighting for you, if he does not tell you how spectacular you are, if he is not chasing, pining after and pursuing you; then other men will.
For so many years, we've fed one another the same advice, and consoled one another when another jerk turned out to be...a jerk.
I thought I'd let you know, though, that your courage has given me courage; and I couldn't be more at peace with this decision.
So, thank you.
xo
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