The Art of Letting Go

It was the middle of the week and the only excitement I was expecting was the exhilarating train ride at the MRT. At rush hour, when everyone fights with each other to reach home in time for dinner, expect jostling, pushing and elbowing, along with the off-chance that the train cars are always too full to get into. Though I was pushed and jostled, I managed to get on the first train that came, so this small triumph felt like a real accomplishment. On my walk home I bought takeout for dinner, and I was looking forward to playing catch up on the rest of the first season of Dexter. I don't know what it was about this show, but it's like every time I watched this show, the universe played a joke on me. After dinner, just as soon as I began to play episode seven, I heard my doorbell ring. And who was it at the door? Yep, you guessed it right, it was Alex.

*

“Are you still at work?” I texted Adam.

“Ye. What's up?” Adam replied.

“Alex just left. Something happened,” I texted back.

“I'll be there in 30 minutes,” Adam replied.

*

I had the red wine ready when Adam arrived. I started ahead of him. 

“I think we need something stronger than that,” Adam said.

“I can't. I have an early morning meeting tomorrow,” I said.

“Fine. But we might need another bottle. So tell me,” Adam said as he poured himself wine. 

“I don't know. The sex just sort of happened. Does he want me back?” I asked.

“What did he say?” Adam asked.

“He didn't say anything,” I said.

“He had to say something. Did he just come in, fuck you, get dressed and leave?” Adam asked. 

“Before he left he said he had to get going. And while we were having sex he said he missed this,” I said.

“And not he missed you,” Adam said. 

“I honestly don't know what to think,” I said.

“It happens all the time. Post-breakup sex. I hate to say this but it didn't mean anything. What it probably meant was that he was horny and it was more convenient for him to come over rather than make an effort to look for someone else,” Adam said.

“Have you ever did it to anyone?” I asked.

No need for an answer as I watched his face turn reticent. 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” I asked. 

“I'm not proud of it. And if it's any consolation, I really try hard not to. But sometimes the opportunity is just there and lust clouds my judgment,” Adam said. 

“Before I closed the door he said thanks,” I said. 

“Puta siya,” Adam said. 

“And the worst part is, umasa ako. As soon as I opened the door for him and he started kissing me right then and there, I immediately hoped that this was it, that this was the reconciliation I've been waiting for. In the first place, I've never agreed to the breakup. But he didn't give me any choice. He said it was over, told me he didn't see me in his future, and the next day, he left with most of his things. Was he expecting me to beg him to change his mind? It didn't seem like it. And I know him. No amount of begging can make him change his mind. But then again, if I knew him so well, shouldn't have I foreseen the breakup?” I asked.

“I'm not even going to tell you such cliches as you'll get through this and that there are other fish in the sea and that you're better off without him and all that bullshit. I know you love him, and you do still, and if you really want to get over him, don't ever open the door for him, don't reply to his texts, don't answer his calls, just cut him out of your life altogether. If he texts or calls or knocks on that door, call me and I'll talk you out of it,” Adam said.

“But I don't want to get over him. Not yet. What if he changed his mind?” I asked.

“How long will you wait?” Adam asked.

“As long as it takes?” I asked.

“You know as well as I do that it's a bad idea. But you don't have to listen to me. Not like I've made any sound decisions lately,” Adam said.

“Why does love make us so stupid?” I asked.

*

I've discovered that when we have a relationship problem, it's not true that we don't know what to do, because most of the time, we really do. That's what makes it easy to give relationship advice to our friends: we know what to do, and if they follow our advice then their problem is solved. But that's what makes it hard to follow our own advice. Knowing is different from doing, and our own feelings will always get in the way of doing what we think is right. Our judgment can be clouded by lust, or infatuation, or hurt, or anger, or disappointment, or insecurity. But the thickest cloud that obscures our judgment is love. Why is it that as soon as we fall in love, or as soon as we think it's love we're feeling, reason disappears like a puff of smoke? Is it because we just can't reason against love because it's unreasonable, we can't rationalize it because it's irrational, and we can't argue against it because it's inarguable?  

81 days since Alex broke up with me, 54 days since he picked up the rest of his things, 47 days since we were supposed to celebrate our fifth anniversary, and all it took for me to fall apart again was an hour of making love to him that Adam later had to point out was not even making love but was only meaningless sex.  And even then, that didn't stop me from still holding on, believing that our almost five years together meant something, and that it wasn't easy to throw away, and that eventually Alex will realize he was an idiot for letting me go and will want to get back together with me. All this time, despite the stimulating dates with Nico, despite the rousing sex with Lyndon, I was only pretending to myself that I have been moving on and they were both helping me do so, but all I was really doing was holding on.