This time, I thought I really had a shot. Until...
“So I’ve been praying about it and I don’t think this can be anything more than just friends.”
Ouch. Those dreaded words: “Just friends.”
We met through a group of friends almost a year prior at a bonfire party. I caught a sideways glance coming my way over the faint orange flicker and met hers back with my own. “Hmm, she’s pretty cute!” I thought to myself. “And as far as I can tell, she’s got a heart after the Lord.”
It would be some time before we crossed paths again at social events but when we did, we always seemed to just end up in the corner chatting with each other. I started to see her at church regularly, and more often in social gatherings until I received the first clear “signal.” So I gathered up the gumption and asked her out on the first date.
But we've all heard this heartbreak story...
You meet someone new. You start to get excited about the future prospect. Things start to fall into place and then you jump in. But hold up! It’s a date, or a series of dates—not a happily ever after.
For me, the first few series of dates was just an opportunity to enjoy her company. We spent time in adoration together over the course of a few weeks. We talked about faith, family, friends, and careers over a few coffees. We went to dinner, the movies, and even cooked at home. We were even mistaken for an “official couple” in public and people commented on how cute we looked together.
Then I watched a video from an unlikely source of wisdom on relationships by self-described atheist Alain de Botton on “Why You’ll Marry the Wrong Person.” His central theme: 18th century Romanticism has ruined our capacity to love by replacing it with a feeling. I rationalized to myself why I shouldn’t sit on the fence waiting for the “feeling” and instead just jump in. Ironically enough, that was it. I started to fall.
But after a series of embarrassing fumbles on my part she started to go the other direction.
After the breakup, I couldn't help but wonder why she was even interested in the first place.
After the fateful “let’s just be friends” talk, I felt like I just had the wind knocked out of me. Sure, it went well at first. And she was actually quite respectful. But over the coming days and weeks it started to set in. I felt rejected. I felt hurt. Then the intellect started to work against what I knew was right in the long run.
Why’d she send me the “signal” in the first place? As far as I could tell she checked off every box on the list of attributes I looked for. This is the story of my life, isn’t it? I’m done dating. It’s just a hassle anyway. The next couple of months really took it out of me.
We all know breakups hurt. You think everything is going great with your head in the clouds before the pain of rejection comes at you like a bag of bricks to the stomach. If it were someone you didn’t like, then it wouldn’t be a problem. But when the stars are falling from heaven and someone essentially tells you, “I don’t want you,” it hurts.
Breaking up with me was actually a blessing in disguise.
It took me a little while to get to this point but breaking up with me was the best thing she could have done for me. In hindsight, there were a few nuanced lessons God wanted me to learn throughout this whole experience and a number of reasons why it may not have worked out anyway.
And besides, she did what she’s supposed to be doing when discerning a vocation to marriage and who that should be with. She put herself out there. She went on dates. She communicated her intentions clearly. She treated me with respect. And when it seemed like it was the right thing at the time to do, she broke up with me.
In the words of the Von Trapp kids from Sound of Music:
So long, farewell
Auf wiedersehen, goodnight
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight
So long, farewell
So to the one that could have been: no, you’re not a horrible person for breaking up with me. You played your part on my journey to sainthood and for that, I thank you. I’m glad I got to know you, even if it didn’t work out.
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