It was Thanksgiving 2012.
He was late getting ready to go to my aunt’s house for dinner.
It had been ten years so I thought he’d know the one o’clock start time by now.
He got in the car as if nothing was wrong.
I’d had enough.
“I am done. We will talk after we get back. Right now I need you to go to my aunt’s and pretend nothing is wrong.”
That’s what I told him and that’s exactly what happened.
Dinner was a blur but I remember what happened later.
“Do you want to talk about this?” he said as if it was my problem and not our problem.
I just stared at him and said, “We’re done. We’re so done.”
Every little thought I’d ever had about him or our relationship came to the surface and boiled down to one thing: I was the adult in the relationship and that was never going to change.
He headed to his sister’s house and then to a friend’s house. That friend turned into (or maybe already was) his next girlfriend.
That was that.
I was 39 years old and single during the holidays.
I was six months away from turning 40 and a holiday movie marathon and one cat away from being an old maid. I am allergic to cats and had wasted 10 years. I wasn’t about to waste ten more.
I had my first post-breakup date on December 7th. He turned out to be a doofus.
He was overweight and didn’t have his own car. He thought the world revolved around Phoenix, Arizona and he was a lobbyist. The worst part was that he had the sense of humor of a doorknob. He was a snoozefest but our dates got me out of the house I shared with my ex which was the real goal.
Clearly The Lobbyist didn’t fit my list for the person I wanted to marry but the next guy didn’t exactly fit it either and we’re getting married.
God has a sense of humor.