breaking up is hard to do

If one has a pseudo relationship for several years it would stand to reason that the pseudo relationship would require a pseudo break-up, wouldn't it?

I am hear to tell you that this is not the case.

I've been on a mission to eliminate the fence sitters from my life - as my acquaintance Jori once put it, "I am going this way, you can either stay there or come with me."

I've wanted to move forward in life for some time now but I believe that my pseudo relationship just won't move with me.  It's a fixed entity, an "idea" of something that at one point in time might have been if I had done a few things differently.  So, I've clung to it, beating myself with it, trying to be friends.

About a month ago I saw this painful reality - that I had to move forward or die staying put.  So, I stopped playing the pseudo relationship game. I stopped calling.  I stopped inviting him for dinner, using him as my emotional support, asking him to help me with things around my house I knew if I really tried I could do myself.

For awhile, he chased me.  But after about a week, he stopped.  He didn't want to play the game anymore either.  The coming over and pretending to chat a little and then fall asleep on my couch, the chaste peck on the cheek goodnight that I always hoped would be more -- he knew the jig was up and whatever game he was playing with me, was over; I was bored and hurt. He knew I was wise to why he didn't want me to post  his photo at my house on facebook.  It didn't look good for him when he lied to someone when he turns up cuddling my dog on facebook when he was supposed to be moving a desk for someone.

I am done self-editing.

It's boring.

I admit, it took years.  But I suppose the reality sometimes hits me hard.  I went to see his final photo show for a class he took this term on Saturday, and there was no kiss on the cheek.  He feigned a cold.

Rather than be hurt, I was simply puzzled because I never expected that he would kiss me in public.  I don't think he ever had except for the brief period so many years ago when our relationship was "real."

But still, I miss a phone call at night, kind of.  It's that kind-of that bothers me.  Maybe I don't really miss him.  I don't miss being disappointed by who I think he should be -- who I know he can be -- who I want him to be.

Maybe I just let go of a piece of selfish wishing and wanting.