Victims of my break-up

There are a number of victims of my break-up, some of which will remain anonymous to secure their ... victimness. The first one is obviously Rob, who I pretty much put through the ringer three times while I dealt with infamous pro/con list (best exemplified in the Sex and the City movie [see: Miranda and Steve {holy shit that comes out today on DVD!}]). He probably would have done anything to keep the relationship, and to make it work. I might have, if I hadn't been through the same thing two years ago with Dugaldo.

The second victim of the relationship is me. I mean, come on - I don't like seeing myself as a victim, and I'm sure many would probably say that I was the victimizer. But relationships are sticky, and I only tried to make it work because I really do love and care for him. However, the more time went on, the more I realized that things just would not work. Things are not just sticky - they are a fucking mess.

The third victim of the relationship are our friends - collectively, I suppose, since I think we both gave hope to a gaggle of them on what relationships could actually be like. I think we successfully gave them a better idea of what break-ups could be like. Relationships are gray area.

The forth victims will be the people we date afterwards. "The only person who should have pay for your last relationship is the next person you date." So true. Its designed that way. I wouldn't consider Jason someone I'm "dating," but we flirted a while back, and most recently, on Saturday, we slept together. It was sloppy - alcohol and pot induced. We did it twice - once on the couch and once standing in the shower. I was happy with my performance.

But after all the cuddling, and after scrambling home to get ready for work, and after texting back and forth several times throughout the day, I realized that he may really like me, and I was only trying to put distance between Rob and I. I sent him a text something along the lines of:

"I like you too, but I just got out of a relationship need to have some space to be alone and just be by myself."

He responded with a "Got it" and I haven't heard from him since. And I couldn't help but feel like I was breaking up with someone else, all over again. And doing a poor job of it. Again. So maybe I won't cash in on writing that break-up book, because I don't seem to know the fuck what I'm doing.

Someone is either breaking up with me and rendering me with the self-esteem of a mudskipper or I'm breaking up with someone via text or smoke signals. And I don't mean to make myself a victim, or I don't mean to create victims, but we're all victims to love. Or the lack-there-of, I suppose.