It’s hard to separate emotionally when my partner and I had spent most of our relationship physically apart. In a normal relationship, after you stop seeing each other that loss of physical presence affords some visceral conclusion to a relationship. When a long distance relationship ends, circumstances stay relatively the same minus the talking. All breakups are hard but this felt particularly incomplete.

I blamed myself at first for everything that went wrong, for what I could have done but didn’t, wish I did but couldn’t, tried but failed. Then I realized that I was only one part of the equation, that maybe the emotional bank accounts for both us were withdrawn except I was still agreeable and willing to stay. One of the best qualities of our relationship was that we gave each other the benefit of the doubt, and believed we both were doing the best we could with the best of intentions. I felt known and understood and accepted by him. And I thought he did too.

Yet towards the end, I felt so defensive of his criticism, felt like he persisted in thinking the worse of me. I kept trying to explain, kept trying to convince him of my right intentions and usually coming away from those conversations, contrite and a little sad that I even had to try win him over. Somewhere along the way, we had a mistep, then another and then increasingly the gap widened until suddenly nothing we said to each other made sense to the other. We had lost trust in each other.

I tried. I worked on being accountable for my actions. I listened and acknowledged his concerns and his criticisms and worked on what I thought was true. I read books on communication and practiced being an empathetic listener with my friends and family so that I could try to do it effortlessly with him.

I wrote a long letter to him in the end, trying to convince him of times when I could attribute failure on both our parts. I wanted to him to share the responsibility on how the relationship deteriorated. But after writing it, I decided not to send it. The letter had I sent it would have been perceived as casting blame on him. And that was far from my intention. Aside from being cathartic, in the process of writing it, I realized that nothing I did now would have an impact on our relationship. It no longer mattered who was at fault and when or whether or not he accepted any responsibility for past actions. He had already removed himself from the romantic relationship; there was no longer anything to be fixed or resolved. In the words that he hates but essentially embodied, “he was done”.

The problem was that I didn’t feel done. I was far from done. I was ready to fight for us again. I was more than ready to take responsibility for my actions and to change anything that I could change to improve our relationship. But I can’t fight the law of physics. The more I tried to pull him closer, the further in the opposite direction he swung, becoming more adamant and sure that the best way forward was by moving apart.

I don’t describe myself as being clingy but I do find myself obstinately attached once I’ve made a commitment. Yet I know I have to let go of the hope that I can fix my romantic relationship. I have no choice but to surrender to the present reality. This is huge for me since I’m not one to give up easily. And in the present reality, we are emotionally and physically apart and no longer in each other’s lives. Resisting the present reality is to resist the universe, a futile effort that only expends energy with no desired outcome. Learning to accept the present reality means that I have to accept this moment, this set of circumstances is how it should be be. I’ve never been able to do that before and it hurts. I see how easily one can succumb to depression but I don’t. Regardless, the melancholy never fully dissipates.

What is different from past breakups is that I have no intention of escaping into another relationship in order to avoid the sadness or to avoid being alone. I want to learn as much as I can from this relationship and mine it for the rough diamonds. I’m breaking the destructive habit of jumping from relationship to relationship. I choose to be alone for now. Time to identify and face my greatest fears. Time to figure out what I want and start doing it. It’s time for Betty time.