Breakups are painful, but moving on usually is the best option

Q: I recently broke up with my significant other. I am absolutely heartbroken. She met somebody from an online computer game and is now living with him. She was not honest about it, and I am pretty sure the relationship started a while before we broke up. She maintains that her relationship with him is not serious or sexual, even.

As crazy as this may sound, if she wanted back, I would take her back. She claims she misses me. I think she is very confused but she will not completely let go of me as I won’t from her, even though that may be the best thing. I am not convinced that we are done with each other. She may be in over her head with this new guy, and maybe even if it has turned bad, feels trapped. (What should I do?) — R.G., Tucson, Ariz.

A: You say you would take her back if she wanted back, and then you wonder if that might sound crazy to me.

It doesn’t sound crazy. I get it.

Just like I would be a very rich rock star had 10 million people bought my CDs instead of only 2,012. And how I would say “yes” if King Features Syndicate wanted to buy my newspaper column. And how, if I had a time machine, I would go back to the early ’60s to see the Beatles perform live at The Cavern in Liverpool, England. Furthermore, if I were King of the Universe, I would outlaw that jaundice banana yellow color you see on some cars.

See, none of this is crazy. It’s just what you and I would do … if … if …

If. If she wanted you back. And here’s where I have to say something brutal, R.G. If she wanted you back, she would come back. She would leave Computer Game Boy, call you and say: “Please forgive me. I want to come back.”

But she isn’t doing this. Which means she isn’t choosing to do it. She’s choosing something else. Which means she isn’t choosing you. Which means she isn’t coming back.

She’s confused, you say. In over her head. Trapped. And you don’t know what to do? It almost sounds like you think you might rescue her. Maybe rescue her from herself. That, with some combination of patience, suffering and intervention on your part, she’ll realize that she really loves you, that you are the one for her.

You’re not convinced that the two of you are done with each other. Neither am I. You might never be done with each other. She might more or less forever not choose you while simultaneously making as if she’s unable to choose you. And you might be indefinitely willing to interpret her behavior as if she were a bewitched princess trapped in a castle tower forced to live out the identity of being another man’s mate, but both of you knowing that, if allowed by the powers that be, she would admit to really wanting you.

But maybe not. Maybe you’ll tire of this interpretation. Maybe you’ll discover that this interpretation wears on your self-respect. Maybe you’ll exchange that interpretation for this one:

She left you for another man. She left clumsily. Without much class. Without much integrity. And now she doesn’t have the guts to stand by her choice, to cut ties with you, to admit that she doesn’t choose you. In fact, until she lets go of one of you, she won’t ever really choose either of you.

Disappointing? Yes. Painful? Certainly, as are many matters of the heart. But not a lot of mystery here, R.G. She doesn’t choose you. If she were choosing you, she would be with you.

I fell in love in graduate school. Head over heels. And this girl with me. But she’s not my wife. Nor even my girlfriend. Instead of choosing those things, we dated and married and made babies with other people.

I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed over that Friday night instead of going back to my dorm? If she would have dumped the guy in Atlanta? If we had gotten married? If we had made babies together?

Hard to say. But what isn’t hard to say is that we didn’t choose any of these things. Which is to say, we didn’t choose each other. So none of the above happened. And no amount of romanticized retro-explanation for our choices changes the fact that we chose.

She isn’t choosing you, R.G.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling and Wellness Center in Las Vegas. His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.