left on the night stand...
The last seven years have been truly wonderful. I'm grateful for the time we shared. But I think we need to start seeing other people.
You've been such a comfortable and accommodating partner, you really have. I'm not angry, and I still care about you very much, but I need to set out on my own now. It's complicated, but necessary. I know we saw most of this country together. From a University campus to Tennessee mountains, to Idaho dogsled rides and Vermont log cabins...but it's time. You know it, too. This has been a long time coming.
Right? It shouldn't come as any shock. You've noticed how I've been drifting, haven't you? Wasn't the whole "I need to get my Friday's back" the last nail in the coffin? That and calling in late to repair fences and meet up with farriers? You knew the excuses when you heard them. And you knew in your heart this other guy just took over, swept me off my feet. I fell in love and I can't pretend anymore.
See darling, people just change. I'm not the girl I was out of college, clutching to dog-eared copies of HOW magazine and driving to her first big design job in her red Jetta. I now have a pickup truck full of dog hair and sheep poo and it is dented as all get out. There is nothing left from Ikea in my home. I still design, sure. I do logos and websites every so often, but I dabble and you know that. I haven't gotten off on design in years. Even that ol' Helvetica lowercase a doesn't get me going anymore. Okay, maybe it still does a little... but nothing that sustains me. Nothing that can sustain us.
The truth is I fell for someone else. That rogue cowboy out there, the guy on horseback tipping his hat into the sunset. Yes, him, Self Employment. He's what I need right now. He gives me the space and independence I need. Let's be honest, you were pretty clingy. I mean, yeah there were great benefits, but....every day? 8 hours together without a break? I need room, dammit and he's an artist. No, he doesn't hold my hand in doctors offices but he the guy who was by my side when I got into the fix that landed me in the emergency room in the first place. It matters.
It's over. You just need to accept in I know it seems early, and I know you had other plans for me right through my thirties, but this is something I need to do now. I can't pretend anymore, and I can't keep going through the motions of this dead relationship. It isn't fair to either of us. You know that. You know this isn't right, baby. And if you're angry, or confused, take heart in this timeless truth:
It's not you. It's me.