So as it’s been a while I should probably fill you in on where things are with my Dan resolve.
Over six months ago I promised myself (and you dear readers) that I would remove him from my life to give my tattered heart a chance to heal.
Did I stick to my resolution? Did it work?
Well – yes and yes (partly at least).
It was depressingly easy at first. I blocked him from my facebook feed (a genius far less confrontational approach to de-friending), deleted his number from my phone (so as not to do any drunken texting) and sat back and waited – steeling myself to turn down any requests for beers and catch ups that might filter through.
But they didn’t come. Indeed I didn’t hear from him. At all. For over two months.
This didn’t surprise me hugely – I’d witnessed him disappear into the whirlpool of new relationships before. He gets utterly consumed in the oblivion of fresh dewy love before emerging a little damp and contrite a few months later. But still it hurt. All my firm resolve seemed a little silly and just reiterated how unequal our relationship truly was.
Sure enough a couple of months in he left a long and apologetic voicemail. He was a terrible inattentive friend and he couldn’t believe he’d missed my birthday and would I ever forgive him and please say I would so he could rain down beer and love all over me. I sent a text saying not to be daft, all was fine but I was super busy so raincheck on the precipitative lager drinking. Full stop. No kiss.
They’ve been a handful of voicemails and texts since then but not many, and they’re getting fewer and further between.
I hate that he thinks I’m pissed off at him for some petit reason, I hate that he probably thinks I’m ignoring him because I don’t approve of Zara. I guess for those reasons our friendship may very well drop away all together and I’ll become a distant memory of a friend that turned out to be disappointingly fractious and judgmental . Which is sad, Heart achingly sad, actually.
But on the flip side – I feel better and stronger and happier without the constant ‘what ifs’ that were thrown around through constant contact with him. My head feels calmer and there’s generally a bit more space to breathe in deliciously fresh air and see the world in a clearer less Dan-addled way. And I’ve started to see men again – as in see them as prospective potentials in their own right rather than as poor substitutions to the Dan myth.