3 October—I feel humiliated. I broke up with P last night. I knew something would mess up the night and, I was right. He did something that shocked and disturbed me greatly. And I thought, how many more times will he do this before I figure it all out?

It was Thursday. I had a free night (as I already mentioned yesterday). Thursday is P’s free night too. But, somehow, some way, the part-time job that P says he will only work when he has to, not a day more, because it stresses him out, decided to call him into work last night and he “couldn’t say no.” Are you kidding me? So there I was, all made-up, in my sexy dress, a little overnight bag already tossed in the car, and then, his text: “Sorry, working tonight. Called in last minute.” I felt like a broken, discarded doll, abandoned in the corner of an old childhood bedroom.

He continued to tell me (in a text) that he would come over on Friday night instead and stay till 11pm, until he had to go into work, giving me “plenty of time” with him. I threw my phone half way across the kitchen and ran to the bedroom, sobbing, like a pathetic teenager.

He crushed me. He ripped me to shreds. He broke me.

I waited an hour or so and came to my senses. I told him I couldn’t take it anymore. “I think we need to split up, or something,” I said. As soon as I hit send I regretted it. What have I done? 

He didn’t have an answer right away but kind of told me that he now believes he does fear commitment and intimacy. He kept saying he was sorry and that he messed up and that I’m the healthiest person he’s ever known (hard to believe from reading this journal). But, I just didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt sorry for me. Look, I understand that you were raised with no intimacy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn. It doesn’t mean you have to run away from it every time it comes too close. You make a conscious decision to try to be more intimate, more vulnerable. Or, you LET ME GO. You tell me, “I’m just not that into you.” How hard is that?  It’s that simple.

And then I pushed him. Hard. I brought up real commitment issues. Not to scare him as much as to get my own values out in the open again so that he could hear them loud and clear. So I could remember them. I said, I know I risk losing you when I tell you this, but, I want to share with you my goals and I want to be very clear about them:

1. I want to give you a baby if you need one. I want to be that woman.
2. If you don’t want a baby, then we need to be clear about that too.
3. I want to move in with you at some point in the future. Not now. But someday.
4. I eventually want to marry you.

I then told him, “You need to know if you want those same things too, or if you are simply stringing me along well knowing you cannot give those things to me. You need to know if you are being unfair to me, or if you are not. And then, once you know. You need to tell me.” He just text-nodded with an “ok.”

Control, control, control…

So,  we’re taking some time off I guess. He’s going to use this time to do some serious soul searching. I suppose I should too.

Early this morning before fully waking I dreamt of my dad. Just dad the way I knew and loved him. He called me over to him and I hugged him. Not very warmly, nor with any real intimacy in my affection because I was too afraid. But, I was dying with love for him on the inside. I realized I simply couldn’t hug him. Something has always held me back. Fear. But fear of what? I do not know. Fear of commitment? Fear of intimacy? Is this what I’ve been missing all along? That it’s not just P who has a fear of intimacy, but it’s me as well? Why else would I continue to date men who are avoidants unless I myself was an avoidant too? Screw love addiction. That’s just a disguise. It’s avoidance that I need to face. It’s avoidance that is keeping me trapped in this cycle of miserable, unfulfilling relationships.