Breaking up is my least favourite thing to do next to toilet cleaning. Even if I've only been out with someone once or twice, I can never bring myself to say, "I'm sorry. I'm just not interested." To me, that just seems so mean. Somehow in my head it's better to make up a story. Note: I did not say lie. I said story. A story is much better than a lie.
The story that's worked the best for me when I've only been out with someone once or twice is:
-I really like you, but you remind me too much of my brother and I can't seem to get past that. It's weird. I'm sorry.
Some stories I have wanted to tell but have kept in reserve are:
- The term is ending, so I'm going to be super busy doing grades and writing reports for the next 10 weeks.
- I met someone else. Yes, that is fast since we just went out for the first time yesterday, but I'm fast. In fact you probably wouldn't want to date me because I'm so fast. No, I'm not going home with you now.
- I'm really ill and the doctor seems to think it's something I've picked up on my travels in Asia. Apparently it's highly contagious, so I'm going to have to live in a plastic bubble for a while.
- My ex just got out of jail so I'm going into hiding. You should too.
Even after having a significant long-term relationship go pear-shaped, I can never seem to end it properly, but I will eventually end it. There's usually an "It's not you; it's me," message involved- that is unless the guy was a complete twat. Then it's a "Fuck you and fuck off!" message. In the end I suppose it's the delivery of the message that's important. When breaking up with someone you want to do it in a kind, sensitive manner to save face and end up not looking like a horrid person, even if it's to tell your partner what they can stick up their lying, cheating ass.
Ways I've broken up with people that I really regret are:
-By standing up in the middle of my local and screaming at the person for being a shit.
Ways I've broken up with people that I've done reasonably well are:
-Over a drink
-On the phone
-While on a walk in a scenic location
This summer had been absolutely fabulous with no need for me to break up with anyone until today. Today I had to end a seven year relationship with a man who has always been there for me. He always listened to me and provided me with comforting wise advice. And, he did all this while making me look and feel fabulous. That's right. Today I had to break up with my hair stylist.
Kevin (not his real name) is amazing with scissors. After every appointment I walked away with perfect hair that was easy to style. Plus, he only ever used Aveda products on my hair and I always got a glass (or two) of white wine and a neck massage. Why would I end such a fulfilling relationship? Kevin works in Surrey and over a year ago I moved to East London. He's just too far away and frankly too expensive.
Like every long-term relationship that I eventually end, I've been planning to do this for quite some time. I really didn't know how to tell him the truth. The "It's not you; it's me," message just doesn't work in this situation because it's not me. It's his prices and the fact he's inconvenient to travel to. That somehow seemed just to mean to admit. So, I launched a plot. I would simply cancel my upcoming appointment, play it like I was still in the US and that I wasn't certain when I could reschedule. This would probably be done with the receptionist and not Kevin anyway, so it wouldn't be so bad. Very passive aggressive of me, I know.
Every day since last week I woke thinking, "I need to remember to call the salon today and cancel." And, every evening I would go to bed thinking, "I need to remember to call the salon in the morning and cancel." Then finally today I got a text asking me to confirm my appointment on Friday. Fuck!
'Okay, this is it,' I thought and I picked up my phone and dialled the salon number prepared to hear the receptionist's voice. Alas, the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't hers. It was male. It was Kevin. Fuck!
I greeted him in a very breezy manner and asked how he was, etc. Then I told him that I was afraid I had to cancel and that I wasn't quite sure when I could reschedule. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. He knew I was ending it. No. No. I couldn't hurt him, not my dear sweet Kevin, so I asked him what he had available in the next few weeks. Fuck me, this wasn't going well. I was about to reschedule out of guilt, but then a miracle occurred.
Kevin told me he was off work for two weeks starting Tuesday. Hoorah! I tried to hide my glee while telling him a story about how I wouldn't be able to come in for the next five days, so I'd have to call back and reschedule when he returned. Somehow I managed to tell this story without giving a specific reason as to why I couldn't come in and slipping in a joke that made him laugh. Thus, it all ended on a good note. Phew!
So, now I just need to go somewhere else and get my hair, which is turning into a shaggy mess, done. My friend, Kim, has a fantastic stylist who is closer to me, charges less and serves champagne instead of white wine. I am not certain about the Aveda products or neck massage, but I'll trade the neck massage and white wine for champagne any day of the week and my Aveda addiction means that my bathroom is already similar to an Aveda spa. I just simply won't call Kevin to reschedule and if he does call me, I'll explain that I've met someone new.
Breaking up is hard to do, but at least I've done it...kinda.