Fin. As in “the end”. Not like the body part of a dolphin. The one word fades in across the screen of a silent or foreign movie that announces the end of the film. You know, that black and white movie that you don’t quite know what is going on. The plot line seems to have no clear definition, no typical or usual formula, and you could have been watching it for 20 minutes or 20 hours, you’ve lost track of time. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the word: fin appears and you know the movie is over. Thank god for that or else you would have never know when to leave the theatre.


Some of the relationships I have with my exes resemble a confusing, way too artsy foreign film. They won’t ever end, they confuse the hell out of me, I can’t get out of them, and I’m still waiting for a fin. I feel like I’ve stayed in the theater way too long. The credits are finished, and I am waiting for some kind of secret trailer that will give me any kind of clue about what is next. What will happen in the sequel? My popcorn is cold, my soda is watered down with the ice and I’m just stuck there, long after everyone else has left, waiting for something to tell me to leave. I’m waiting for a fin that never comes.


I am still in limbo from the last guy I dated. We agreed that we wanted to stay friends. We worked things out, we fought it out and then realized how much we cared about eachother. There was a friendship that lived below all of our fighting and our dating and our sex. And we wanted that to never end.


We stayed in contact right after the breakup. But a few weeks after we realized something very important. Without the dating and sex, the friendship wasn’t enough. We had a friendship in the first place because we were attracted to eachother. The sex fueled the relationship and the friendship. If I needed a friend to talk to, it wasn’t going to be him.


We tried a few times, but it always got confusing. Why hadn’t he called me in such a long time? If he wasn’t going to call, then I certainly wasn’t going to contact him, I’ll just call my real friends. And so the confusion began. I didn’t really need him and he didn’t really need me. I thought it was fin.


Time passed and then I began to feel an awareness of a longing. I missed him and I wasn’t sure why. I had enough friends. I didn’t really need to chat with anyone about anything in particular. I just wanted to talk to him. The movie continued.


Should I call him? Should I let this movie continue? It seems harmless but the reality is that the drama, the love story with him will not end unless there is a fin. I haven’t left the theatre, I haven’t gone out into the world. I haven’t wanted to date anyone else and I haven’t wanted to move on. I am letting myself sit in a perpetual state of holding on. Am I keeping a healthy relationship with my ex so I can pretend we are mature and can handle being friends? Or am I avoiding moving on…

I will never know until….the fin.


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