to find out

Maybe he wanted her to believe that he was a good person and worth being with or fighting for, but he couldn't make it real. He couldn't will himself into being a real man because it's so far from who he was. It took too much to own up to mistakes. Even big mistakes. Even lies. He may have to admit that perhaps he was a bad person. If he admitted that he was wrong or that he lied or did something fucked-up, he would have to take responsibility for himself. And that requires being a man, being a grown up, being held accountable to a person, to a commitment, to an idea that you both want to make a reality. He makes an impulsive, stupid decision out of anger, drunkenness, or a "fuck it" attitude. He carries it out, satisfying his retaliatory side, feeling vindicated, victorious, and in control. Then, only once he's out of his anger with a renewed perspective and a desire for reconciliation, he's ready to regain that idea and get her back in his life. He covers up the bad deed by quickly pressing "delete." And it's gone. And he's instantly good again. And she doesn't have to know. She doesn't need to know. It wasn't important to him, she doesn't need to know anything.

This was my first complete weekend alone, with no contact whatsoever. No phone calls, texts, snaps, random appearances, or e-mails. It was weird. Lonely. Sad. I drove to his old house, where he lived when we first starting dating and things were good between us. When we had longer stretches of peace. When our plans had a real and reliable future. I keep trying to piece together the puzzle of what happened and I have no answers and it kills me.

I recall being so excited to pull into that driveway to see him. I remember all the breakfasts. I remember his family and feeling so welcomed and such warmth. I remember our fancy first Valentine's Day. I remember our first anniversary.  In our second year, we didn't really celebrate those because we were fighting. It started feeling ridiculous and false to celebrate a 2nd year anniversary when we had broken up so many times.

I still have his toothbrush in the stand, like it's waiting for him to return. And I kinda want to start using it? I know that's weird. It's like a tiny part of him that I can still have and keep to myself. I don't know what I'm saying.