Ok. Ok. I say. I guess that’s it. You know the rule. I was referring to the time we were eating dinner in Chena Luna and he told me about his friend who’d broken up with the girlfriend sometime last year, but after a few months, they were back together again.
Well–I told him then. With me. You can only break up with me once. That’s the rule. I’ve learned my lesson. I know what it’ s like to be in and out–and back in again–and back out again. And up and down on that roller coaster. And whatever. I don’t do that anymore. I don’t need orchestrated drama in my life.
I phone him a few hours later to get further clarification and closure. Can you articulate it? I ask. Can you articulate why you don’t have those feelings? Because I wish somebody could explain it. I tell him. I’ve heard it before. The last time was after a 12-year relationship.
I wonder what it is? What am I doing so that things never work out? I wonder because as my housemate correctly points out: the only constant in my relationships is me. AND my relationships always seem to turn out the same way–whether they are three months or 12 years. There is a constant that is consistently producing the same results.
And I think about this piece of advice Alan gave me once.
I think I need to make better decisions. Better decisions about who I let into my life. Better decisions about how I let them in. I guess the only thing I can say now is so very cliche: Live and learn Jennifer. Live and learn.
On that note, I’m going to work in my garden.