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June 8, 2025 – June 15, 2025
Jerry had said it was fair. He had said he thought they could have open, honest communication, even without answers. Violet wanted to believe him. She had not asked him to define the relationship. She had not asked him for commitment. She had asked him to talk to her.
For a moment, that seemed possible. Then the pattern repeated.
She knew he would have his kids that weekend, and she was going to be away the following week, so she asked if they could talk on the phone sometime before then. It was a simple request. Not a demand. Not a confrontation. Just a chance to talk before more time passed and everything slipped back into silence.
Violet still tried to make it easy. She did not come at him cold or angry. She gave him room. She kept the door warm, even playful, because that had always been part of how they found their way back to each other. She still wanted him. She still cared about him. She still believed they could talk if he would just stay present long enough for the conversation to happen.
But Jerry went quiet. Silence had become part of the pattern too. It did not arrive dramatically. It just settled in and made her do the work of figuring out what it meant. After months of push and pull, Violet was tired of being left to interpret him. Tired of the closeness followed by distance. Tired of the intensity followed by avoidance. Tired of trying to be understanding while he kept retreating from the conversations his own behavior made necessary.
Eventually, she named it.
“Your silence speaks volumes and it feels really shitty.”
Jerry answered. “I’m increasingly aware of my inability to give you what you need. I don’t want you to feel shitty. I don’t want to feel shitty. Maybe we should take a break.”
It sounded sad. It sounded self-aware. It sounded like he was trying, in his way, to be honest about his limits. Violet did not want to punish him for having limits. She had never wanted that. She knew his life was heavy. She knew the divorce, the custody issues, the criminal charges, the parenting stress, the recovery, and the shame he seemed to carry. She knew he got overwhelmed. She believed that.
But she also knew what she had actually been asking for.
She asked him if that was what he wanted. Then she told him the truth.
She did not disagree that something was not working, but it was incredibly disappointing that he could not or would not talk to her. She was aware of what he did and did not have to offer. That was why she had never asked for anything more than sex, cuddling, and basic decency. She had thought they had established a certain amount of trust and respect.
That was the part that hurt. Not that he could not give her everything.
She had not asked for everything. She had not asked for a relationship. She had not asked for a future he could not promise. She had not asked him to become someone other than who he was.
She had asked him not to leave her guessing. She had asked him to communicate.
She had asked him to treat the intimacy between them with enough care that neither of them had to pretend it meant nothing or everything.
She had asked for basic decency.
Jerry did not respond. There was more she needed to say.
That was part of the frustration. She had tried to talk to him. She had asked for communication. She had tried to make the conversation easier, softer, less threatening. She had been clear that she was not asking for a category or a commitment. But Jerry kept going quiet, and silence had a way of ending the conversation before she could finish it.
So she wrote, not expecting or needing an answer. She wrote because he had not given her the opportunity to say it directly, and writing had always been one of the ways she found her voice when speaking was not possible.
She wrote about herself first. About finding her voice. About knowing what she wanted and did not want. About not needing validation in the ways she once had. About being grateful to focus on taking care of herself after putting so much of her energy into her marriage.
She wrote that she was not looking for a relationship. She wrote that she had high expectations of a partner, and also high expectations of herself as a partner. She wrote that she would not overextend herself beyond her responsibilities or make promises she could not keep.
She also wrote about him. She acknowledged what he had been through since they met. She did not pretend to know what it had been like for him. She recognized that his time and energy had been focused on sobriety and his kids, and that she had always wanted those responsibilities to be his highest priority.
She told him she cared about him deeply.
She told him she did not want to be his girlfriend.
She told him she did not think either of them was in a position to make a relationship commitment. She told him she had thought they were close enough to be honest with each other about what they wanted.
She told him that if she had understood they were not even close to being on the same page, she would have ended things earlier. She took responsibility for not being clearer sooner.
She wrote about the physical intimacy between them too. How much it had surprised her. How much fun sex with him was. How much the physical intimacy had helped her body and her mind. How rare the connection felt to her. How safe, seen, and appreciated she felt in the vulnerability between them.
She wrote about wanting boundaries. She wrote about wanting enough trust and respect to talk openly and honestly.
She wrote that all she had wanted was to set some boundaries to help each of them feel safe and to talk about the fun, dirty things they wanted to do to and with each other.
She was trying to say the thing she had been trying to say all along.
Not that she needed him to become her partner.
Not that she needed him to promise her a future.
Not that she needed him to rescue her from uncertainty.
She wanted honesty, communication, boundaries, trust, respect, and enough care around the intimacy they were already sharing.
Whether he answered or not, she had at least stopped carrying all of it alone.
After that, Violet tried to leave it alone.
She had said what she needed to say. She had written it down because writing was easier than trying to pull a real conversation out of Jerry when he kept going quiet. She told herself that was enough.
If the break became an ending, she would let it.
That was what she told herself.
By early August, she missed him.