Q: Hi Meredith --
I've spent the last few weeks contemplating this question, and though I'm usually one to know what the "right" answer is, I can't seem to figure this one out. As a faithful reader I figured I'd turn to you and your readers for some advice.
Three months ago I was dumped by a guy I liked … a lot. Initially I thought things were going great and was willing to make a lot of effort in our relationship. I stayed in on nights I wanted to go out, got close to his group of friends, met his parents after just two months together, and even stayed in Boston when I was contemplating a move. He soon proved that he wasn't willing to reciprocate those gestures, and when I asked him to meet me halfway he confessed he had major trust issues. I told him that though we'd only been together for a few months, I cared about him deeply and wanted to be there for him to prove to him he could trust me. Two days later, he gave me the ol' "we need to talk."
Since the night of the breakup we have not exchanged a single word. He immediately defriended me on Facebook (within a few hours -- a trivial thing, but very telling of his deep emotional issues/immaturity) and made it very clear that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.
Three months, lots of tears, and a huge heartache later I'm in a much better place. I'm gearing up to quit my job and making plans to travel and to move to New York where I've always dreamed of living.
The thing is, I never got closure. While most of my friends have suggested that he simply copped out -- that he got scared of being committed and vulnerable with someone and the easy answer was to run -- part of me is still incredibly confused as to how and why he was so willing to let go of everything we'd built. This was the guy who, just before we broke up, bought tickets for us to upcoming sporting events, talked about plans for the winter, and kept telling me how much is parents absolutely loved me.
I'm moving to New York in just over a month. Is it worth reaching out to this guy to ask him to ask him all the questions I've been contemplating for months? Part of me is scared to leave Boston without closure, but will his answers satisfy me or just open the wounds all over again? Am I naive to think that a conversation would bring me any peace? Please, help.
– Craving Closure, Boston
A: If you want to hear him ramble and make you feel bad, CC, you're welcome to call him. But I'd rather you just leave it alone.
I mean, what could he possibly say to give you closure?
If you need a speech to make you feel better, just read this (below). Hear it in your guy's voice, because I'm pretty sure I know what he's thinking.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I bailed but I did. I was all excited about our relationship and then things got … normal. And scary. And I couldn't say for sure that I wanted to stick around and get closer to you. I know that's lame, but that's where I am. At the end of the day, losing you was less scary than keeping you around. That sounds awful, but it's the truth. And that stuff I said about trust? It was just something to say. I trust you. I just can't sustain what I started."
Did that do it? Because that's as good as it's going to get. You were building a relationship, but he was just enjoying himself. And now you get to move to a fabulous city.
I'm all for saying everything that needs to be said, but in this case there's nothing he can say to make this less painful.
My guess is that you're hoping he changed his mind and is just too afraid to call. And if you're feeling that way, you should just keep re-reading that speech above and start packing for new adventures. That's the only way to erase this pain.
Readers? Would it be so bad if she called? Can she get closure? What happened with this guy? Do you have a speech of your own for her? Discuss.
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Meredith Goldstein is a Boston Globe columnist who follows relationship trends and entertainment. She offers daily advice on Love Letters — and welcomes your comments. Meredith is also the author of "The Singles," a new novel about complicated relationships. Follow Meredith here and on Twitter. Love Letters can be found in the print edition of The Boston Globe every Saturday in the G section.