The type where one person is in Lala Land and feels scorned, rejected, and confused by the crashing of illusions and wants to stem the feeling of rejection by getting some form of validation from the other party.They want them to admit they were wrong or that they did feel what they said they’d feel, or that they did mean what they said they’d do, or that they didn’t intend to do, be, or say whatever they did, were, or said, or that they feel remorse or shame, or realise they’re emotionally unavailable and/or an assclown, or even, in a longwinded way say ‘You’re right and I’m wrong and I’m sorry’.
I was prepared for honesty, I just wasn’t prepared for him blaming his behaviour, emotional unavailability and his hot and cold rinse commitment-resistant behaviour on the fact that I was black, that I hadn’t prepared him for being in an interracial relationship, and that he’d had to put up with comments from friends and family.
Picture it: Mid January 2001, I’m sitting opposite my ex in an upmarket Thai restaurant in Dublin getting ready to tell him that despite his dubious efforts to win me back, I was moving to London in less than a week.
After him hounding me for five weeks and claiming to be a changed man that had seen the error of his ways, I thought that we could have a mature conversation about our relationship and what had happened and basically part on reasonable terms.
In my quest to be , I opened myself up to a very painful slap in the face that really wasn’t needed.
I also found I had more questions than answers and that some ‘truths’ were very distorted or just plain dodged.