Balancing a No Frills Breakup

“Well, that’s the last of it I think.”

I stare at the back of Ian’s head, a rumpled mess of dark, curling hair blowing gently in the early spring breeze. He turns to face me with the last of his large cardboard boxes tucked securely next to his side.

We both wait with bated breath.

Scamper bounds down the stairs after several minutes of dense silence, and joyfully makes his way towards us, his tail wagging frantically. The grass ripples underneath him, trampled on by the boundless energy. I rub the top of the golden retriever’s head affectionately and give him a sad smile.

Ian clears his throat. I look up and we make eye contact briefly before I glance away. My smile drops.

“Look” he begins. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out, ok? I tried… I really did.” I note the hoarseness in his voice, the lilt of his tone giving away the emotion buried underneath. It was my decision to break up, but he didn’t want to go.

“I know” I mumble to the sidewalk, eyes drifting towards the little girl riding her bike on the opposite side of the street. Her dad steadies her bike securely from the side. “We could have been good together.” I peek up from beneath my lashes and catch a glimpse of Ian’s jaw clenching in frustration. He turns back to the off-white Chevy.

I feel a vibration in the left pocket of my denim jeans and pull out my phone. Glancing at the screen, a picture of my mom eating donuts pops up. I hesitate for a second then answer the call.

“Hi mom” I begin. “I was just going to call you to say-”

“Oh honey” she breathes. I feel shocked that she seems to have detected the tremble in my voice, and steel myself against any empathy she’s about to project.

“There’s a sale on watermelons at No Frills and I don’t know if you want me to bring you some when I visit you later?”

I stop chewing on my bottom lip and sigh. Almost laugh even.

“Mom, that would be great, thanks” I admit in defeat. “Is there anything else?”

“No hun… I just have to finish shopping, then I’m going out with the girls to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”

I cringe inwardly as I recall the last time I went to the movies with my mom and her friends, and know their loud, rambunctious laughter will make me go deaf eventually. I don’t think I will be able to have a good time anytime soon.

“It’s ok, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now” I admit to her.

“Oh, ok sweetie. I’ll see you later, ok?”

I turn around and see Ian has placed his last box of belongings in the back of his truck, and is crouched on the ground playing with Scamper. Despite his somber mood, I see a dimple begin to appear as Scamper starts to chase his tail. I let my mind wander a bit and recall when Ian and I first met. We were both young, and ambitious. Who knew that eventually the ambition would get to the best of us?

I come back to my surroundings with the rustling of leaves and twitter of birds passing by overhead. “Sure mom” I say. I put away my phone and turn back to say my last goodbye to Ian.

“So… this is it I guess.” I let my words carry over the distance to Ian, several meters away. It’s a distance I have to keep fighting the urge to close. He is so familiar to me, like another limb that happens to be apart from my body. I will miss watching him play the guitar, the intellectual conversations we would hold deep into the night on the meaning of life, and the intimacy we shared together. Whenever I inhaled, he was my exhale. My release.

But now – now he’s going to Vancouver for a once in a lifetime job offer. Now, he’s going to get the life he’s always dreamed of. I will just not be there to see it. At least one of us should realize that the dreams we fought so hard for would arrive at our door one day, and we should grab onto it like we grabbed onto each other in our moments of desperation.

Ian looks like he’s about to say something. He’s thinking through what to do next, I know it. Being together for 3 years has afforded us this much understanding at least.

“It’s ok” I reassure him. “I need to stay here, and you need to go there. There is nothing left between us.” I try to convince him as much as myself.

“You know…” he begins, with a glint in his eyes, “this doesn’t have to be the only option, right?”

I notice how he has his hand on the door of the truck, but it still doesn’t look like he’s about to leave. I resolve to get this over with before I change my mind, and allow myself to lie.

“I’m tired of you, and you must be tired of me too. This is exhausting Ian.” I feel like something is breaking inside of me as I utter these words. “Sometimes, you just-”

Before I can make up another excuse for why we shouldn’t be together, Scamper suddenly starts chasing a squirrel down the sidewalk and ends up at the feet of none other than our resident neighborhood gossip, Denise.

Denise has been living in this neighborhood for the same amount of time as me, about 5 years, and not once has she ever expressed the desire to become friends. Until Ian showed up.

She strolls her way over to us now, head turning right to take Ian and his truck in, then turning left to my disappointed frown. She turns back to the cardboard boxes in the truck with a tug at her lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” she proclaims. “Ian my dear, are you going on a trip somewhere together?”

Ian sighs deeply, looks away, then turns to face Denise. “No, I’ll just be leaving here for Vancouver. Take care of yourself Denise” he politely replies.

Denise’s eyes widen in surprise, and it seems she’s having trouble schooling her features into something that resembles displeasure. She’s had her eye on Ian for a while, and I’m sure many more will in Vancouver. He’s quite a catch. I try not to let myself feel anything. He can go and meet someone better, someone who happens to fit into his life more than I can.

“You know” Denise purrs, “I was just thinking of going to Vancouver for a business trip. Maybe we’ll run into each other sometime. To catch up, you know?” she openly grins. I let myself ignore whatever interaction begins to ensue between them and watch as Scamper finally manages to take a dump on Denise’s front lawn, not too far away. I snort.

Turning my attention back to Ian, I notice Denise has already started making her way down the street, daggers in her eyes as she spots Scamper’s present for her.

“So I guess this is goodbye then, huh?” Ian tells me. Each syllable feels drawn out, like he’s buying time. His eyes soften, like he wants to hold onto this scene, this memory, beyond what is unfolding right now.

“Yeah, I guess this is it” I say. We allow ourselves to drink each other up, every detail of our appearances carefully examined, our minds delicately storing away the remnants of this moment to open up later when we’re filled with regret. At least, that’s what I’m trying to do.

“Bye then” Ian murmurs as he pulls me into an unexpected hug. I let myself feel the crinkle of his shirt, smell the earthy scents that linger on him, and force myself to halfheartedly raise my arms in the resemblance of a hug. The longer he stays here, the harder it will be for me to convince him to leave. I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread, and this self-control won’t last much longer.

After a moment, I gently push Ian off me, and his mask of indifference wavers to reveal a wounded expression that I know will haunt me forever. The little girl riding her bike seems to be making her way back now, on the other side of the sidewalk. Her dad is no longer holding onto the bike. She looks happy, with baby teeth on full display as she confidently attunes herself to this new skill.

Ian begins to turn away, and I find a moment later that my hand seems to have caught on the bottom of his shirt, in a soft tug. I don’t remember allowing my hand to do that. Ian looks confused. So do I, I suppose.

“If… it ends up not being what you expected… and I still happen to be here…” I begin hesitantly, “you’ll know where to find me.”

After these words tumble out of my mouth without permission, Ian’s eyes crinkle in relief. His shoulders visibly relax. He straightens up and the traces of bravado that started to ebb away a few weeks ago when I began pushing him away seem to be coming back to him.

“Always” he simply states, then he leans in close to leave a soft kiss on my cheek. Drawing back, his eyes linger on mine, and he swiftly turns to his truck and Scamper. “Come on boy, let’s go.” He swings open the Chevy’s door and Scamper hops on in. Strolling to the other side of the truck to get into the driver’s seat, it seems any traces of defeat have melted off of Ian. He opens the door, gets into the truck, and starts the engine. With a last wave to Scamper, I watch as the truck pulls off of the curb and turns the corner down the street. They are gone.

Perhaps the time will come when I am skilled enough to let go. But not yet.