Sometimes one of the hardest things to do is just let go. I spoke to my Frenchman on the phone yesterday after two weeks of silence. Now I know that all he ever wanted with me was a fling. And as long as I seemed okay with that and didn’t make any demands, he thought he was onto a winner.
Problem was I fell for him and began thinking we were a couple. Which was when he backed off and said that he needed time to think about if he wanted to be with me like that. I immediately thought, what? He needs time to think about it after six months? Then he doesn’t want to be with me because otherwise he would just know.
Humiliated, I sent him an email saying as much. And I’m glad I did. If we’d had the same conversation another six months later, I would have been devastated. In his words, he can’t give me what I want. Essentially a relationship. Although he would still like me in his life, as a friend. With occasional sleepovers.
It’s a tough pill to swallow. Especially when your Frenchman says you’re an extraordinary person, funny, smart, witty, warm and all those lovely things, and won’t easily let you go. But really what it comes down to is this: he may like me, want to have sex with me, see me, but it’s all on his terms. No strings attached.
He ended the phone call with, “I don’t want to try again because my greatest fear is losing you completely.”
You know what? He already has.