Story of a Douche Bag

When people break up, the story that gets around is typically generic. There's the asshole, that for some reason or another decided to mindlessly end a relationship with the victimized significant other. Then, everyone feels compelled to comfort the victim of the break up and radiate animosity against the "break-up-er."


For instance, when a girl says "My boyfriend broke up with me... I feel heartbroken," the natural response that almost carelessly comes rolling out of your mouth is "Well, he's a douche bag."

I'm that douche bag. And, I have something to say. My story is rarely told, so here it is...

The Story of a Douche Bag:

A little over a year ago, an Oral Communications class brought me face to face with beautiful woman named Andrea. Several long conversations opened my eyes to the radiating beauty this woman displayed. Simple pleasures, easy laughter, smiling eyes, intoxicating stare, seductress lips... I could not resist.

The first month drifted by so smooth and perfect... Like watching the sunset from your rooftop amidst the pollution in the sky. Perfect. She was perfect... Hard to temper, slow to jealousy, compassionate, exciting, loyal...etc. And then came two months.

Two months in, something changed. The perfect portrait seemed to fall into the hands of something Picasso-esque. What I thought I had, seemed oh so different now. Insecurities bursted from the seams, jealousy woke from its hibernation, self-confidence peeled away like an orange rind. Our happiness easily slipped into discontent, and the spark between us was smothered. Why? Why? Why?

Was this the real person beneath the facade? Had the mask of perfection finally come off? I soon found out.

She told me this: She was scared. It was too good to be true. I wasn't the jealous, insecure type of man that she was used to. She could see a life with me. A future. Her family loved me. It was too good. And it scared her shitless. Because it was too soon. She felt vulnerable for once. And she wasn't going to let that feeling last. She couldn't let herself believe that I felt the same for her because that would only make her more vulnerable. So she fought a hopeless fight against herself... and she was losing.

It was killing her, and I had front row seats to a drama I never agreed to watch. Hopeful of having what once existed, I hung in there. If only I could feel that spark between us once again, It would be worth it. So worth it!

So a year went by. She wasn't happy. I wasn't happy. But we could eventually be happy, right? This year was riddled with two handfuls of falling-outs. Unsure of what to do, she broke up with me in the evening and came back to me in the morning, time and time again.

I was unhappy. She was unhappy. Dissatisfaction rang loud, but the world around us didn't see it. Actually, our plastic smiles and broadway showmanship played quite a different note... hiding the barrage of unsure, unhappy brokenness. People would actually call us the perfect couple. "You guys are so cute together." "You two are perfect." "How does it feel to have the perfect relationship?" We didn't have the perfect relationship. Actually, we were miles from it. The added pressure from these small phrases... observations of the easily-fooled... brought to surface the drama whenever we were alone.

We had succeeded in fooling others to thinking we had a good relationship. But, we really only fooled ourselves. I could go no longer. I had to let go.

The sparkle in her smiling eyes. The joy in her laughter. The seduction in her being. It was all long gone. It wasn't coming back. She could not win against her own insecurities. Not with me. It was something I just had to accept. I wasn't happy... She wasn't happy... A real man must know when to say "when." We've fought through a year in hope of regaining what we had for two months... And we haven't made progress.

I'm sorry Andrea... I love you... But it's time to say "when."

You do not understand now, but perhaps someday you will. It's time to rest your weary head from the year-long battle against yourself. May you find happiness.

-a Douche Bag