Breaking up is hard to do

Sorry if I earwormed you, but that’s all I can think about right now.

Last week I had to end one of my poly relationships. I had originally intended it to be FWKB (friends with kinky benefits) but somehow I allowed it to become more than that in actuality while still claiming we were just friends. Plus, she wanted more than just friendship and made no secret of it.

I’ll be honest: I’d been trying for a while to find a way to end the relationship. I’d stopped looking forward to seeing her; it was more of a chore, to be honest. Two hours of kink and sex, and some fairly decent cuddles, are not enough to build a solid relationship. Especially if you are very different people, which she and I were. We didn’t share food preferences, musical preferences, TV and movie preferences, or even personal space preferences. When it came to kink, she wanted certain things that unfortunately she was unable to handle. Also, us getting together was a constant battle when it came to scheduling, because of her variable schedule and the fact that she doesn’t drive.

But something happened last week that pushed me over the edge. It’s private, so I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say it demonstrated just how selfish she can be in a way she had never shown before. (She was always somewhat selfish, and I, like a fool, overlooked it.) I tried to be reasonable and kind, and she just kept pushing, and that was it. I was done.

I still hate that we had to end things, because I know it hurt her, and I loathe hurting people. Hell, I stayed in a terrible marriage for five years longer than I should have because, as much as I despised my first wife, I still didn’t want to hurt her. I stayed with my next girlfriend for months longer than I should have, again because I didn’t want to hurt her.

Breaking up is hard to do. But sometimes it’s the right thing to do. Even when it hurts.

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