It ended just as it began: a block.
I blocked him. He was chatty and I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t care. Block.
And then, somehow, he snuck into my life anyway.
He was loud and absurd. The sound of his humming and off-color remarks flooded every space we occupied. And I loved it. I loved him. Sure, I knew a lot of it was an act, but I didn’t care. All I asked was kindness and communication. And for a while, it worked well. Then the triggering began.
Human relationships will always be complicated, but soul ties are doubly so.
Hundreds of hours together, just laughing and talking shit. Days taken off of work and entire weekends blown off to be together in our weird little bubble. I supported him through hard life experiences, and he was there for me too. He listened to me cry and open my heart. For the first time, I trusted someone with all of me.
But something shifted. The dissonance became palpable. I did the only thing that made sense to me, I tried to talk about it.
He wouldn’t.
I asked him to trust me.
He ran.
I asked him why.
He blocked me.
The irony isn’t lost on me; there’s a realm in which it’s a poetic touch of divine comedy, but I’m not laughing anymore.