The night after I cried on the phone, I called ready to explain what had happened. Before I could get to it, my boyfriend told me I had broken his trust. He said I had lied to him. The lie was that, when he asked what was wrong the night before, I had said nothing.
I was nineteen, he was eighteen, and we had been together a little over three months. We called almost every night. That Monday, I had convinced myself I had been annoying him for days. I thought talking would help me feel closer to him. Instead, I ended up crying without being able to explain why.
I knew that was confusing for him. Someone crying while insisting nothing is wrong does leave the other person guessing. But when we first started talking, I had explained that opening up was difficult for me because of things that had happened when I was younger. Sometimes I needed a day or two to sort through my feelings before I could share them. He had said he could wait, as long as I was trying.
So on Tuesday, I asked him to call after work. I wanted to apologize for leaving him in the dark and tell him what had been going on. He spoke first about how hurt he was. I apologized and tried to explain, but he called me emotionally unavailable. The call ended with him saying he needed time.
The following day, I told him I would give him space and be there when he wanted to talk. I still thought we could work it out. He kept texting about the situation anyway, then asked me to call that night. Again, before I could say what I had come to say, he told me we were wrong for each other. He said I only wanted a boyfriend so I could say I had one. Then he ended the relationship.
Afterward, talking with friends made me look beyond those two calls. In almost four months, we had gone out twice. Both times he wore sweatpants and a hoodie. We had spent time at his house maybe six times, usually after I had practically begged to see him. Those nightly calls had been a much bigger part of our relationship than actually being together.
There were also the messages he left unanswered for hours while he had recently been active, and how little enthusiasm he seemed to have for telling people we were seeing each other. I had felt that distance before I cried on the phone. I just hadn't put all those moments together.
Once, I had said I didn't like public affection when he tried cuddling me in front of his friend. Weeks later, when I said it hurt that he barely talked to me while we were with a mutual friend, he brought that back up. To me, not wanting to cuddle in front of someone wasn't the same as wanting my boyfriend to ignore me. My best friend, who worked with him, also heard him say he would never put me ahead of his job.
I could see the words I wished I had used on Monday: I wasn't ready to talk yet. That would have been more honest than saying nothing was wrong. But I had asked for the next call because I wanted to let him in. By the time I was ready to explain, he was already telling me why it was over.
