I said goodbye to The Neighbor.

The tissue I used to wipe my tears is a damp and twisted Q and my face is streaked with tears and black mascara.  I’m crying; little sobs escape my lips like hiccups.  It’s pathetic.

He’s gone.  Like, really, really gone.

He cried and his voice was a whisper as I convulsed on the other end of the couch not even an hour ago.

“The thing is,” I said immediately losing control once we sat down, “this isn’t working for me.”

“What isn’t?” he asked.

“Our friendship.  It’s too painful.”

I told him everything.  Everything I’ve written here over the past several months, how hard I’d fought to make our friendship ok, how painful it was to see him change and grow without me, how difficult it was to realize that our breakup friendship wasn’t all that different from our dating one, how it felt on his birthday, how it felt last night, everything.

The pain was overwhelming and my cries tumbled out of me.  His face crumpled and his voice evaporated.  He stood and walked to the kitchen sink, emptied his water glass.

“What are you doing?” I asked between sobs.

“I’m leaving.  You don’t want to be friends with me anymore.”

I wouldn’t let him leave. “How would it have felt to you if I had gotten up and just left you that morning you told me how you felt?  That you didn’t want to be with me anymore?”  Tears streamed down my face.  “You don’t leave now.  You stay.”

And he did.

And then he cried more and we cried together, apart.  Again.  All over again.

He said he understood and wants to support me in any way he can, but it sucks — God, how it sucks.  I balled like I’d just seen my dog run over and wondered aloud why he couldn’t just want me back.  It was a weak moment for me.

“Hy,” he said not unkindly, “you have to get over that.”

My sobs stopped as I processed my last hope being dashed against the rocks like a bottle of nothing.  I lifted my face from my hands, took a breath, and looked at him.

His eyes were filled with tears and bright red.  I held his gaze until we broke it together.  I know he loves me, but not the way I need.  Not the way I want.

We agreed he wouldn’t contact me and I wouldn’t contact him until and unless I felt I was fully recovered.  When I can imagine him with another woman and not want to vomit will be my Litmus test of recovery.  I have little hope that will happen inside a year or two at the least.  Maybe never.  I don’t know.

He said he had no idea how I’d been feeling, but felt badly about it nonetheless.  “I’ve been fearing this moment forever,” he said.  “but now it’s finally here and I know I’ll be ok, but it’s terrible.”  The last few words were but a whisper again.  My feelings for him and his fears of me ending our friendship don’t appear to have a connection in his mind.

“I knew that this would be harder on you, Hy.  I’m TN-Bot 3000, remember?  I don’t feel things.”

I felt sad.  Like the Tin Man with no heart, The Neighbor knows there’s something missing from his make-up.  I wanted so badly to close the distance between us and hold his hand as he admitted his hollowness, but I remained rooted to my cushion.

I told him that he could contact me under two conditions.  One, if he wanted to get back together and try again — he chuckled.  I smirked — and two, “In case of an emergency,” he filled in for me.

“Yes, absolutely and always.”

“I also reserve the right to call you and you can hang up in my face,” he added.

I shrugged noncommittally.

At some point short of an hour it became obvious I had nothing else to say.  “I’m going to go now,” he announced softly.  I nodded assent.  “One last hug goodbye?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He put his shoes on and turned to me with open arms.  I was already crying again when I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around him.  His chin rested on my shoulder and his arms held me close.  I could feel him shudder as he cried and I could hear his whimpers, too.  “TN,” I said choking on tears, “this is awful.  I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed me and said, “I know.  I’m sorry, too.”

We broke apart and he handed me the cat who was attempting to escape.  “Thanks,” I said and then he slipped out into the night and past my welcome mat.

“Bye, TN,” I said gently behind him.

And then I shut the door.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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69 thoughts on “I said goodbye to The Neighbor.
          1. Ah! I can understand. I did the same after breaking up with G. I felt silly crying over something that I brought down on myself, yet I remember how much it helped being able to share it with my friends. Don’t worry, we understand!
            Dawn D recently posted…Out with the old…My Profile

          2. I remember how hard it was for you to end things with G. I wish I lived as far apart from TN! Along with time, I’m certain distance also helps to heal. And look at you now: all in love and happy!

  1. I’m not going to “like” this post, but I do fully believe this is the right thing for you, as hard as it is to do it. We’ve had parallel conversations with unavailable men who we love this week, and I agree it may take you a very long time to be able to be friends again. Maybe someday; maybe never.

    You know I hate platitudes but I do think “time heals all wounds” applies in this case. I believe there will always be a place in your heart for him, but the pain will subside. It will get better. I know it.
    Ann St. Vincent recently posted…Love, actually.My Profile

  2. Oh Hy! I just want to hug you right now!
    Id read your previous post but hadn’t had time to comment on it yet, but you were quicker than me.
    I can’t begin to imagine your pain. Yet I also feel like this is a step in the right direction, allowing you to finally move on with your life, whenever you’re ready for it, in a week (snigger!), a month, a year, who cares, it’s your life, you set the pace you’re comfortable with.
    Until that time comes, know that I’m thinking of you and send loving hugs. Always.
    Dawn D recently posted…Out with the old…My Profile

  3. Ann is right… in time the pain will subside.
    Meanwhile we’re here for you….
    Sending a virtual big hug from across the miles…..

      1. Too kind. You’re a great writer, I enjoy reading your blog. Sorry for your pain, but you’ll be stronger for it, no doubt.

  4. Oh Hy – this sux huge balls.
    Like everyone else – ((HUGS)) and love – you have an enormous amount of love and support here – hopefully this will help ease the pain slightly.
    Look after yourself now xxxx

    1. It is, truly. I know that it’s as important an experience as its counterpart, and I’m not exactly fighting it, but man… it’s like a toothache or an illness: part of life, but the shit end of it. I can’t wait to be on the other side of this. xx Hy

  5. I’m so very very sorry for your hurt and pain. It was be terrible. I wish I could just hug you and let you cry for a while. Much love and affection. Xxxx

  6. Thank you for sharing these painful moments. It is so brave of you to face the pain of saying goodbye so that you can start healing. I think I’d do the same thing in your position. Being friends with someone I loved so deeply would feel like a knife stabbing my heart over and over again. With the path you’ve chosen now, the pain will eventually become a dull ache, and some day you might not even notice it.

    1. I don’t feel brave, exactly. I feel responsible, if that makes sense, like, this is what needed to be done and I’m doing it. All sorts of other strange things have been happening since. I’m still chewing on it all, but it’s been a good domino effect thus far. And yes, it was definitely like a knife in my heart. :(

  7. Dearest Hy, don’t you ever be embarrassed about what you write here, it’s your space that you so humbly allow us to share. Love & hugs to you honey, my heart’s breaking afresh for you once more. Ann is spot on though, time is the healer of all of the heart’s ills. Hang in there. oxoxox

      1. No honey, never frivolous, cathartic & all part of the healing process. Got to get it out, we’re all here for you as much as we can be. Love & hugs. xxx

  8. I hope in the end your tears will wash away the pain. I went through a period through our ‘friendship’ that I thought there was a chance we’d get back together. It was when I knew 100% that it wasn’t going to happen that I began to heal. I hope that, like me, you’ll wake up one morning and say ‘I’m free!’ Free from the pain and heartache, the queasiness in your stomach trying to figure out what else you can do to get him back. I listened to one particular song by my beloved Eagles a thousand times. The part that got me sobbing back then was the line ‘you didn’t love the boy too much; you loved him too well.’ Let the healing begin, Hy. We’re all here for you!

    1. I have had a very similar experience the past few days. I feel very free and light. I didn’t realize I had been carrying around so much weight until I cut it loose. I haven’t been listening to any particular music, but I have been going to bed early and spending a ton of quality time with my baby, which is just about the two best things I could possibly do for myself. Thanks for your kindness :)

      1. Oh, Hy! I’m so glad to hear that! I was wallowing a bit after our break-up, hence the Eagles song. Best that you don’t try that! Spend time with your baby, with friends, and with yourself….you’ll find that you’re in good company! HUGS!!!!

  9. I wish there was something bonnie and I could say that would take away the tears and the hurt. The sad truth of the matter is that we can not. Our very best to you and our hope that you will heal in the end. respectfully stan

    1. Thanks, Zoe. I love your wishes for me and yes, I am a good, worthy, and loveable person and I’d like to be with someone who acts like it, too. Such a little thing, but I’ve honestly never experienced that kind of love in a relationship in my life. Hope you and yours are doing well. You’re in my thoughts! xx

  10. I was reading an old post of yours where you talked about how you didn’t love anyone, that it wasn’t something you did in the relationships you had. And yet look at you now. Loving (and unfortunately hurting) as fully as anyone is capable, even saying that “love is the most important thing in our little lives”. And it’s true. It really is.

    As much as I know you’re hurting right now, the silver lining in this is that you’ve grown by leaps and bounds. You’ve learned. About yourself, about others, about what you’re capable of. That’s a tremendous thing, and you should be proud of yourself for that. It’s hard I know to see any good through the tears and pain right now, but it’s there. You’re going to be just fine.

    1. Oh jeez, that must have been a very old post! I’ve been in love with TN for years now! But yes, I have come a long way and healed a lot. Thanks for reminding me :)

  11. You’re stronger than you know you are, Hy. Feel all your dark feelings, and you will eventually come out of the other side of that tunnel. You’ve done something that most people can never bring themselves to do and made yourself your number one priority in order to heal… and you will. *a million hugs from Korea*

    1. I’m rather proud of myself, actually, as sick as that sounds to have just caused myself tremendous pain (haha). But you’re right, I’ve chosen to do something that will ultimately be the best for me. *a million hugs back from America*

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