Look back in anger

I unexpectedly went to see an Off-Broadway production of this title last week, and never would have predicted that the playbill laying on my bed two days later would become so appropriately poetic.

I thought our story had ended here.  Although to use the word “our” in this context makes my stomach turn with a feeling that can only be described as complete disgust.  Regret oozes from my fingertips as I type the finale to a story I  long considered beyond its final pages.  This ending one I accepted despite the missing conclusion I had once craved with desperation; clinging to its discovery, willing the reason to reveal itself.  Until now.  Because after everything I’ve gone through and after all it took to get here, the answer I once craved was ultimately so simple.  And simultaneously, it is the cruelest thing anyone has ever done to me.

It wasn’t cruel that he was already married.  And it wasn’t cruel that the wedding date was almost a year to the day we had originally planned for, over three months ago already.  It wasn’t cruel because of who he married; a female colleague and friend who I had laughed off when others teased me about their seemingly innocent relationship.  No, his selfishness and self-importance led to a vicious act that didn’t require details.  As my best friend took on the horrible responsibility of something my ex-fiancé should have long ago told me, there was only one simple, sickening thought I could process.

This entire time there had been an answer.

An answer.  The answer.  He had just been too much of a coward to give it to me.  Despite everything, the one thing I had needed was an explanation, and  now I find out he had it the entire time.  I had spent weeks of my life reliving every second of our last few months together, trying to figure out how much responsibility fell on me; when exactly my everything had changed; how my life had spiraled so out of control without my permission.  And stupidly, the concern I had for him during those first few weeks because when he left, he led me to believe he was in a terrible place, maybe even worse than me.

As I let myself understand what his withholding of this explanation would have meant, not just then but throughout this entire experience, I felt a terrible sensation take over.  Unfamiliar and unfathomable until just minutes earlier.  Betrayal.

After five years together; a home; an engagement, he couldn’t be bothered to afford me the luxury of something that had the potential to bring closure.  Or the accelerated rate at which this simple answer could have brought relief and understanding.  And yes, the anger it would have allowed for; anger that would have given me something to wrap my emotions around instead of the aimless unknown and emptiness that unnecessarily flooded my life for so long.

So when exactly does one begin to question their own character?  This place of self reflection clearly lies in a very different place for my ex-fiancé than where most descent human beings would find it.  It obviously wasn’t when he harassed me about silverware and the toaster.  Or when he asked me for a check for the utility bills.  Or when he demanded the engagement ring back, pissed that I had the gall to take from our apartment what I wanted.  Well, I learned from the best.  And the worst, now in hindsight, when emails were still being exchanged about my ring but he was six months away from marrying someone else.

I can understand falling out of love, or falling in love with someone you maybe shouldn’t.  But I cannot accept anything that followed.  Betrayal.  Disrespect.  Impertinence.  Self-absorption.  Spinelessness.  His belief that me and my feelings were in the end irrelevant to what he wanted.

And yes, I am finally angry.  Because I deserved better.  I deserved that answer.  My family deserved that answer.  My friends deserved that answer.  I probably wouldn’t have admitted this a week ago, but I let my ex off too easily in my head, and in my heart.  I had loved him for years and I didn’t want to tarnish every last memory of our life together.  But that’s more than he deserves.  There is undoubtedly a good guy and a bad guy in what became of the story of us, and he is absolutely responsible for the role in which he’ll be cast forever in my mind.  And in the minds of those who love me.

So finally I can say it, and not just to make my friends smile or believe that I’m over him.  No, I really mean it now.  A statement as simple as the explanation he wouldn’t give me.

What an asshole.