By Maureen Elyse Gilbert
This essay was originally published on Marueen’s blog, “Notes from a Midlife Crisis,” and has been lightly edited from the original.
"You're so vain. You probably think this song is about you."
- Carly Simon
Dear America,
It’s been almost two years since our breakup.
I realize you’re too vain to believe anyone would actually leave you… taking some space I believe you called it. Your taunt still rings in my head, “Leave ME? Try to find someone better.”
Of course, I have come back to you in the past. Why wouldn’t you just wait for me to come crawling back again? I think what hurts the most is that you didn’t even reach out after I left to say, “Hey are you ok?” “Can we talk about this?” “Did I say or do something to make you want to pack your things and leave in the middle of the night.”
That’s the problem. You just don’t care.
I’m not sure you ever did.
It’s kind of brutal. Wondering if I’ve been the fool all along.
I still think back to the beginning when we were so happy and seemingly so in love.
There was so much promise and opportunity. I thought we had a chance to build a beautiful life together.
I, like a fool, ignored the warning signs. The crippling cost of my college education. The gas lines that my father had to wait in just to be able to fill up the car to get to work. The war in Iraq. Sandy Hook. Like most good codependents I gave you the benefit of the doubt. “Everyone makes mistakes,” I argued. I was always so quick to defend you even when my heart broke a little with each act of indifference to my well being.
