Apropos of nothing.
It’s one of the landmarks for a breakup, one of the milestones that show you’re gaining distance and perspective, maybe even healing. That moment when you know that you wouldn’t go back to them, even if they asked.
This isn’t to say that all my past relationships are like this. I think I’m on pretty good terms with most of my ex partners. There are some who I know are lovely and would date again at the drop of a hat. But there’s nothing there to escape from. None of those relationships left me confused, disoriented, unsure of who I am. It’s the others where (to quote the Scissor Sisters) you measure distance with tears.
I realised today that I’m out of that zone completely. Actually I’ve been out of it for months, maybe a year. Maybe a year, but probably not. It can be hard to tell sometimes. My abusive ex was cropping up in dreams long after I’d thought I’d moved on (though thankfully these were few, rare, and progressively less troubling as time passed). And lingering at the back of my mind is the thought that maybe I’m not. Maybe there’s still that one, or that one. The person who despite the alarm bells might still be able to pull me back in, like a sinking ship.
Sorry for getting maudlin, it’s been a funny day.