Fizzle

When I think of how most relationships end, I inevitably think drama - someone cheats, someone steals, someone lies. Someone commits a bad act and someone is the simpathetic victim. The failure of the relationship is so understandable, so logical. There's confrontation. The fallout. The break-up.

It is no mystery why I inherantly associate failed relationships with this sort of drama. Our lives are filled with such stories - told by friends, by history, in novels, in films, on TV, in the media (Brad and Jen anyone?).

Much less often do I consider those many relationships that end far less abruptly, that for some reason or another just fizzle out. They begin, as all relationships, with a connection, a spark, and the overwhelming sense of possibility. This all eventually settles comfortably, the spark fading into a soft, warm glow.

Subtly, the warmth begins to recede from the glow. The light becomes more harsh. We may sense the shift in the light, but our eyes adjust to shade the glare. We tell ourselves the shift is merely evolution - natural, inevitable. Things change with time.

Some people spend their lives like this, shielding their eyes from the glare. Others eventually start to wonder: Should I have to squint this hard to see? In fact, am I squinting so hard that I can't see at all?

When there has been no betrayal, no lying or cheating or stealing - when there is no wrong-doer, how do we explain the end of a relationship? If we are lucky, we have a heartfelt talk with the other person, at the end of which he/she agrees that things have changed, for whatever reason, and that the relationship is no longer working. We part amicably and may even remain friends.

If we are not so lucky, at the end of the heartfelt talk, the other person insists that it can be worked out, that we should give it another shot, that we would be fools to throw away such a good thing. While this may tug at our hearts and tempt many to reconcile, reconciliation is generally a mistake. After coming this far, we are best to finish the act - explain that working on things is not an option, that the relationship must end.

We have commited no betrayal, cheated no one, stolen nothing and ultimately chosen to be brutally honest rather than lie. We are not a wrong-doer, but we are the instigator and as such, our partner automatically becomes the victim. Being dumped is horrible, of course, but dumping someone is, in my opinion, an equally if not even more loathesome experience.