I have been considering ending a long-term relationship, but it’s so hard. BG and I go way back. For a long time we kept it casual, spending brief periods of time together whenever we could. But over the past 12 years, since I have been retired, our relationship has escalated until now we have coffee together every day. BG is smart and versatile, broadening my perceptions, challenging my mind, and making me laugh out loud. The time I spend with BG has become a very special part of my day.
So I was very distressed when BG didn’t show up one morning. I wasn’t worried, really, just surprised. But it did throw off my day. The next day everything was back to normal. Then it happened again, and then for a stretch of three or four days BG did not appear. I felt lost; I didn’t know how to fill that time I usually spent with BG. Oh, sure, eventually BG sent word, apologizing, explaining that there were serious issues that had prevented the usual visits but that everything would soon be back to normal. And pretty soon it was. And I was willing to forgive. But then the stretch of absences happened again. This time I was just mad. Nothing BG could say could help me understand why I had been so betrayed. But, OK, two can play this game.
I did what might be a bit unusual for someone of my advanced years and that for me was totally uncharacteristic—I went online. After all, there were things I had come to expect, things I enjoyed, and I wasn’t just going to settle for no relationship at all. Almost immediately I started an online relationship. OG and I decided to go slowly, so we agreed to see each other for a trial period of two weeks and then assess how things were going. OG was very available and reliable, and I was glad for the loyalty.
Things just weren’t the same
But things just weren’t the same. Frankly, there wasn’t the physical attraction. I found OG a bit cold. And, to tell the truth, a bit shallow. Still, I was willing to hang in for the trial period.
Then one day, out of the blue, BG showed up, as if nothing had been wrong. I realized how much I had missed BG, how unsatisfactory OG had been after all. I was quick to forgive, and I relished my time with BG. And then it happened again, just when we had gotten back into our comfortable routine. Gone, disappeared, nowhere to be seen. One day I thought I saw BG a few houses up on my street. But I wasn’t going to humiliate myself by chasing up there. I was devastated all over again.
Reluctantly, I went back to seeing OG. We were still in our trial period, but when that was over, OG was giving me less and less time and was more superficial than ever. To be honest, it was more than that. What happened to me has happened to many women, I’m sure, but it’s still embarrassing for me to admit. OG turned out to want me just for my money. After seeming interested and toying with my affections, OG refused to show up unless I was willing to pay.
Completely frustrated, I turned to TV, something I never do in the morning, but I was desperate. I might as well have done something truly sinful for how guilty I felt. I couldn’t quiet the little nag that said, “You shouldn’t spend time with TV in the daytime when you have things you should be doing.” I never felt that way when I had coffee with BG—or even OG. It became a struggle each morning: to see TV or not to see TV.
A friend offered to fix me up with NYT, touting the attributes of intelligence, broad knowledge, depth, and a sophisticated style. But I felt a bit intimidated, and I think I was holding out hope of getting back together with BG.
And then BG did come back into my life. I was so happy, I forgot to be mad. At first I waited each morning on tenterhooks, wondering whether BG would continue to show up, but so far so good, and I’m beginning to feel confident again. After all, our relationship was almost perfect for all those years before this recent affair. But if BG ever tries that again, it’s over—I’m canceling my subscription.
