Can a nightmare date last over two months, and only be a nightmare for the last three weeks? So that the first wonderful few weeks end up looking more like a nightmare disguised as a fantasy? Gigi feels as though she has just woken up from a long dream, nay more like a coma. She was hopeful that Jean-Claude might be the one, but he was just another one to fool her romantic longings, and hopeful dreams. In the end, he was like most of the men Gigi has met along the way: all talk and no show. All big dreams and fancy words in the beginning, and too crass and crude at the end. All glitter and no gold. No substance. Mere whisps that fizzled away to nothing, so that one is left wondering why they ever thought there was actually something there.
How does one put two months into a few paragraphs? If you’ve been reading my blogs since August, you will have read of my feelings for Jean-Claude, my hopes that he really wanted a life and a relationship with me. He said he wanted it all: marriage, kids of our own, a home. Yet he very quickly went from attentive and sweet to distant and cold… so cold that his last few texts to Gigi were unbearably cruel. Thankfully she had had three weeks to get used to his absence, and to begin to realize that sweet Jean-Claude was just a figment of her imagination, and that he was really a 45 year old Peter Pan, who refuses to grow up and become a mature and responsible man. Instead of preparing for a future in America with Gigi and her sons, he preferred to party every night with his 23 year old French and Italian colleagues.
At first, Gigi was happy that he had friends to be with, so that he wouldn’t be sad and alone. Then she realized that he preferred to party with them, than spend time talking to her. In the beginning, he would party with them, and still call her when he got home, and he never was absent from her life for more than a day.
Then came the last three weeks. First he said that he had old friends coming to visit him for a week, and he warned Gigi that he would not be “as available” as he had been for the past two months. Gigi thought that would mean only a phone call late at night when he got home, and no skyping. But no. It meant NO communication at all for a week. Not even a text. Not even a phone call on his way to work. Gigi called him late at night, and early in the morning, or when he normally left work. All times when he should have been alone, and not with his “friends”. Gigi began to suspect he was with a woman, and had no private time to talk to Gigi. Because in the past, when he partied with his young colleagues, he would call and answer the phone, and even ask Gigi to talk to his friends. This time, there was absolute silence, and he told Gigi that his friends wouldn’t understand his having a woman, and would say that she had him all of the time, and they only had him for a week.
So Gigi tried to understand. She gave him the week. The day they left, Jean-Claude sent her a text, saying that he would call her that day. He never did. So she began to worry for real, and asked him what was going on. He called her at 4 AM her time, saying that he was back and would call her later that day. Again, he never called, and he went silent for three days. Gigi asked him what was going on, that if something had changed she had the right to know.
Jean-Claude told her to stop harassing him. This from the man who once asked her why she hadn’t answered his text right away. From the man who wanted her to give him his first child, even though Gigi had decided a long time ago that she was done with having kids. He told her in a TEXT that he needed a few days to “sort things out”. What was Gigi to think but that she was what he needed to sort out. So she waited another few days… and then he was back for a day, never really answering what the things were that he had to sort out, apart from saying he went home to Norway to deal with things. He told Gigi that he used to have a life in Norway: family, possessions, an ex-girl friends. But he never told Gigi anything specific.
He still claimed to love her. Gigi told him about her last few weeks, and how everything (as well as his presence in her life) had gone wrong: job, money problems, family problems, and his absence. He told her he was back, and would help her figure things out. And yet he was soon back to partying with his young work colleagues, and ignoring Gigi for another few days. That final weekend, Gigi texted him, asking him what the problem was this time, and why he was now not answering the phone. He texted her this: Get the message woman. When I don’t answer, I’m busy.
Gigi was flabbergasted. She had told him a few days ago, that she would not put up with any more unexcused absences. That she would be done if he kept disappearing from her life without a word or an explanation. After that message Gigi was done.
- So done, that she immediately moved her Irish claddagh ring from “taken” to “single” (ironic since he is in Ireland).
- So done that she changed her status on face book from “in a relationship” to “single”.
- So done, that she wiped him from her memory, texting him back that she was so sorry that he was too busy to find any time for her anymore, and telling him that she would never bother him again.
- So done, that she immediately talked to someone who wanted to date her, and had wanted to for some time.
- So done, that she immediately called up an old booty friend, had him come over, and put to good use a certain unused sex swing that she had had hopes of trying out with Jean-Claude, and only him.
- So done, that she never called, texted, emailed, facebooked, or skyped him ever again, nor did she even have the slightest temptation to do so.
Jean-Claude was never the man Gigi thought he was. She had mutual friends of theirs on facebook ask her how she was… they cared more about this than Jean-Claude did, because he never bothered contacting her again. Wonderful sweet Leroy told her that Gigi deserved better than Jean-Claude, that she deserved someone who wouldn’t run away without a word. And Gigi realized that he was right.
So au revoir to you, Jean-Claude. One day you will wake up, an old and lonely man, with not much of anything in your life. Gigi will not be like that, because she doesn’t simply give up on relationships. She is not the one who changed. You were the one to change. Your so called love only lasted a few months… You said you were ready to settle down. But men who are ready to settle down do not party away their nights, and ignore women who care for them.
Gigi normally writes her own happy or sad poetry, and she wrote a few happy ones about Jean-Claude… she has not yet felt the need to write a sad one about him, because quite truthfully, she is not that sad about losing him. Of course, she never really “had” him, so how can one miss what one never had.
Yet after reading this great poem by Dimonique Boyd, Gigi just had to post it here… it is perfect for those break-ups that improve not worsen your life…
Fuck your farewell.
I’ve never been one to reward cowardice
with my tears.
Even my tears have more purpose than you.
They mix with blood and sweat and yield progress,
and you want me to CRY for you?
Beg you to stay?
I pray that you understand someday
that the space you leave will be filled before I miss you.
Don’t waste another milliliter of ink
or scrap of paper on a goodbye.
Just pack your satchel and go.
I’m too busy penning new beginnings in my life
to concern myself with your ending.
Close the door behind you quietly
lest you disturb my train of thought.
I’ve got loops and curls to cast spells upon,
leaps and plies to teach to phrases,
consonants and vowels to counsel
until they come together for the greater good…
If the love is gone then by all means,
You thought your departure would be hard to swallow
but no loss is suffered from where I sit-
and I refuse to feel sorry for you
especially when you walk away from me with such pomp and circumstance.
I find you quite pompous
and under the circumstances,
I think I will partake in one final toast…
Fare thee well, good sir
and don’t forget to write.
Now Jean-Claude never said goodbye, and I highly doubt that he will ever write again… but Gigi loves this poem nevertheless.