Roaming Towards Myself

Dismissive avoidant.
A sprinkle of narcissism.
Zero emotional accountability.

Honestly… impressive work, Deb.

At first it doesn’t look like that.

At first it feels exciting.
You think you’ve met someone strong, confident, independent.

You assume the emotional distance is just personality differences.
Different communication styles.
Something that can be worked through.

So you try harder.

You become calmer.
More understanding.
More patient than you’ve ever been in your life.

You start carrying the emotional weight of two people and telling yourself that’s just what love requires.

Spoiler: it isn’t.

Because some people don’t actually want a relationship.

They want the comfort of one when it suits them, and freedom from it when it doesn’t.

And when it ends, it rarely ends like a normal breakup.

It’s a discard.

Sudden distance.
Cold behaviour.
No real conversation.
No empathy.
No accountability.

Just someone who once said they loved you walking away like the connection meant nothing.

And somewhere in that moment, the mask slips.

The charming, attentive version of them disappears.

What’s left is someone you barely recognise.

And that’s when a strange realisation hits you:

You weren’t losing the person you thought you knew.

You were finally seeing the person who was there all along.

The silence that follows isn’t peaceful at first.

It’s confusing.
Painful.
You replay everything trying to understand it.

Healing from that kind of ending isn’t neat or quick.

But slowly, somewhere along the way, the silence stops feeling like abandonment…

and starts feeling like freedom.

That moment when the mask slips can be deeply unsettling.
If you’ve experienced something similar, I’d genuinely be interested to hear what that moment felt like for you.