22. The Second Wind

Tonight, I finally got the clarity I’ve been chasing for weeks — and, of course, it shattered me. Guess the universe has a twisted sense of humor.

I called C today because I needed answers. I had been feeling confused for weeks, and especially after yesterday at church. At church, C barely looked at me, didn’t hug me hello, and seemed to avoid eye contact like I was a celebrity caught without makeup. Yet, he sat next to me during service, and everything seemed fine at Bible study. Then, after we put the food away, one of the guys scared me so badly I screamed like I was auditioning for a horror movie. C was immediately all over it, his protective instincts kicking in. He made sure I was okay and gave me a side hug to comfort me, and honestly, I think he was more scared I’d go into a panic attack than the fact I just nearly broke the sound barrier. We ended the day with pickleball, and this is where the “is-he-flirting-or-just-competitive” game began. We were at the net, bodies basically pressed against each other, and he leaned into me like he was marking his territory. I don’t know if it was competitive energy or something else, but it was confusing.

Then, of course, we didn’t hug goodbye when we left. But, plot twist: We ran into each other at the store (because, of course, grocery stores are the perfect setting for life-changing conversations) and had this long conversation followed by not one but TWO hugs. I was thoroughly bamboozled. Mixed signals? Oh, absolutely.

So, I called him today to clear the air. I needed answers because, honestly, my brain was getting whiplash from all the emotional curveballs. He explained the hug after I was scared, saying he just wanted to make sure I was okay. I mean, understandable. The pickleball thing? Apparently, he was just being competitive and didn’t realize it came across as “flirty.” Who knew playing a sport could have such intense emotional consequences?

But the real kicker came when I asked the big question: Are we done, or is there still a possibility? His response hit harder than I expected. He thought we should move forward as if we were truly done, finished, kaput. He didn’t want to fight for me. He just wanted to move on and “let life unfold,” which, fine, maybe that’s a healthier approach than holding onto something that clearly wasn’t working.

Here’s where the punchline lands: I was always the one who loved him. He was my person. I loved him deeply, but he never loved me. It smacks you like a slap in the face, doesn’t it?

So, now I’m sitting here, feeling a deep ache in my chest, but with a little more peace. Maybe he was the one for me, But I wasn’t the one for him. I’m seeing that the guy I thought was my forever was never actually mine. It’s like I was holding on to a book that had already been closed, but I was still reading the last chapter in my head.

To make things more complicated, he’s helping me move to my new apartment on Saturday. Fun, right? I told him I needed a few days to decide if I can handle him being there. I just watched Someone Great (because what else does one do in the middle of heartbreak but watch a heartbreaking movie?) and towards the end, Jenny says, “I guess in that moment, I was choosing myself. ‘Cause it’s not our journey anymore. It’s mine.” Man did that hit. Because from this point forward, there is no longer an “our” journey. It’s back to just being mine. And sometimes, you have to choose yourself, even if it feels like your heart is being torn into confetti.

This is the second goodbye. It’s real this time. It hurts. And yet, I find myself chuckling at the absurdity of it all — because I thought he’d come back. I really did. But here’s the plot twist: he never was mine to begin with. I was just the plot device in his life story.

And that? Well, that’s the hardest pill to swallow: you love someone who doesn’t love you back. But hey, life’s a series of lessons, and this one came with a side of humility and a dash of irony.

- Cheesecake