I am the Cancer Boy of Relationships

I have not been terribly forthcoming about several things of note going on in my life right now, but I think I can shed some light, by way of preface to today’s complaint.

John (my partner of 10 years) and I have, after a great deal of soul-searching, ended our run. (I refuse to say “broken up” as that sounds like it involves returning a letterman’s jacket or something.) In any case, we have made it final and official, and we are both still in a mourning phase of sorts, while trying to retain our friendship. I will be moving in a month, if I can swing the money for rent/deposit, etc., but it will go ahead in some fashion.

So that is all the news that is fit to print currently.

Now, the fun begins… telling mutual friends, colleagues, and professors, as well as family members.

No doubt some of you are reading this and hearing it for the first time. Don’t be offended to be “the last to know.” My mum doesn’t even know yet – there is plenty of time for that particular joy soon enough, and if she had email I would gladly just “bulk notify” her. In truth, it is almost easier to send out wide proclamations, as I am finding the process a horror renewed with each individual sit-down talk.

Why?

Because of what I now start to think of as the "I’ve just told you that I have just broken up with my partner and/or been diagnosed with cancer" look. Pity surrounds me, and it is horrible. The best response so far, from my Advisor, was “It happens; don’t let it get you down.” That is a fine response. The worse: “OMG, that must hurt… cry if you need to; I’m here. Go ahead. Cry!” (That person seemed to expect me actually to just cry on command… Clearly they know me well, eh?)

So, now word is firing off madly in all directions. And now John and I (we happen to be members of the same University Department, btw… fun, fun, fun) are subject to “Cancer Boy” looks. These range from “Such a brave little trooper,” to “It isn’t contagious, is it???” People stare and then look away. I almost want to set my hair on fire, just to see if they could sustain a gaze.

I do thank everyone for what I assume are words of well-wishing and condolence. I would say, “let’s go for coffee,” but since everyone in the world suddenly wants to take me for coffee, I am not sure my bladder would survive more invites. Perhaps if I sobbed as much as everyone here expected me to, it would be more comfortable. However, as an emotionally-constipated (or at least forcefully determined) Maritimer, I just can’t do that.

So… that’s my update. Let it spread forth… and then don’t mention it back to me, ok?
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