Don't Come Around Here No More

I got to talk to one of my oldest friends today. We don't get to talk often but when we do we tend to cover a wide range of topics, and among many others, we talked about men. Her voice changed when I brought up the New Englander. Noticeably. And this isn't the first time I've noticed that, it's just the first time I've admitted it to myself. It wasn't impatience I heard, exactly, though there was definitely a trace of that. This friend would never say: "why don't you f#$%ing get it, Sarah, you deserve more than he is prepared to give." I know she loves me. And I know she wants me to be happy. And I can tell by the tone of her voice that she knows he's not what's going to make me happy.

And here's the thing: I've gotten this message over and over again in different ways from so many different people. But still I rationalize, I justify, I fall back on the love I have for him. It's time to have another sort of talk with myself: "Sister, if that were the problem, you're right, you understand yourself so much better now, you are definitely more ready to be a partner now than you were when you were with him. But that's not the problem. That's never been the problem."

Which is why, when I tried to express to him what I felt bad about and how I've grown, he didn't hear it. Not really. He just said how huge it is for him that I love him the way that I do. How that's been one good thing in a tough five years.

I guess that's something. But it's not enough. I know it. My friend knows it. I'm sure everyone reading this blog knows it. But I'm finally willing to admit it.

I need to stop going back to that trough. And I'm going to stop. Because it's never been a question of how much I love him. It's always been a question of what he's able to give, and that remains true today.

So enough already. I'm done. If things ever changed for him enough to make a difference, he could fight for me. I wouldn't need to do anything to facilitate that. I've watched enough damn romantic comedies to know that when the guy is ready, if he ever is, he doesn't let anything stop him. That's not the situation I have on my hands. So I need to be done. Really done. I need to stop texting, calling, sending birthday presents. I need to stop blogging about him. I need to stop indulging these fantasies that do absolutely f%^k all to quell my desire for human contact.

Enough already.

As I walked to the bathroom tonight for the final time before going to sleep, this song started playing on the internal jukebox:

Don't come around here no more
Don't come around here no more
Whatever you're looking for
Hey! Don't come around here no more

I've given up. I've given up
I've given up on waiting any longer
I've given up, on this love getting stronger

I don't feel you anymore
You darken my door
Whatever you're looking for
Hey, don't come around here no more

Thing is, it tends to be me that comes around there, so I'm still having that little talk with myself when I say:

I've given up. I've given up
I've given up, you tangle my emotions
I've given up, honey please admit it's over

Don't come around here no more
Don't come around here no more
Whatever you're looking for
Hey, don't come around here no more
Stop walking down my street
Who did you expect to meet?
Whatever you're looking for
Hey, don't come around here no more

Please. For yourself. For your own happiness. Enough already.