I’m not a hardass; I just play one on TV

In a relationship I had this past year, there was an (un)expected death in my family. Shock at the tragedy fueled my need to be strong for both myself and my family. Needless to say, I was beyond the shock level when upon relying on a bit more strength from my then-boyfriend, he balked. He completely withdrew from me — and all involvement in the situation. I so deeeply needed him by my side, and he left me to wallow in misery alone for days. Not once asking how I was doing, or offering to help out at my grandparent’s house (like other boyfriends/husbands were).

After frequently blending dating and family activities, and majority of my “things” moved into his house, I was devastated to hear his words:

I’m not there yet.

Meaning, even though I blended him in “good times” with my family, he wanted no part in all the “bad times” that would and did happen. Essentially wanting “no times” with me. Hindsight shows this was just the first step in him chucking me from his life.

Thankfully, I had a great friend that listened over a long tearful phone conversation, otherwise, I probably would have gone murder-suicide on his ass.

Days went by before he even bothered to even talk to me. Until he overheard said conversation with my friend, then did he come down to “bother” with me. I already felt horrible — he made me feel worse. As though because I needed him, I was somewhat less of a person. Almost as if he were blaming me for being upset.

Look, funerals suck… but so do non-affectionate boyfriends.

I didn’t talk to him the day before or day of the funeral. He somehow remembered in passing where the service was held, and showed up. But only in body. While I choked tears back, watching grown men lose themselves emotionally and hold their wives/girlfriends tighter and closer… I only got a pat on the back. Like, “Good job, Mel! You made it through.”

I have never hated someone so much in my life. That death put me in a funk for weeks, opening my eyes to my own life choices that I struggled with — skeletons and decisions, if you will. I was battling my own, which made me a miserable, miserable person to be around. And I essentially was battling with the fact that I was living with someone who I could not stand to look at (which he called “walking on eggshells”). But not once, did he attempt to talk to me to see even “what my fucking problem was.” Then, as you know, once the initial trauma cloud cleared, he dumped me.

This provoked thinking about other men I had dated, and if they would have reacted in the same manner. I realized reminded myself that I have never dated somebody so unaffectionate in my entire life. Every single other person I have chosen to be a part of my life would have been there. At least for something like this.

It reminds me how often you can really only rely on yourself, even if in a committed relationship. But then, I guess, this also makes me somewhat jaded.

But sometimes there is a great friend there when you need them. And that makes all the difference.

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