You Said Goodbye but Guilt Kept Reopening the Door

You decide to go no contact, and for a moment the whole thing seems wonderfully clear. You have said what needed saying, you know the situation is not good for you, and now you are going to step away and let some actual distance happen.

So you say goodbye, walk out and close the door behind you.

So far, so elegant.

Except guilt has barely given you time to reach the hallway before it taps you politely on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss, but what if he thinks you’re angry?” Well, maybe you are a little angry, but that is hardly the point, and you certainly do not want him sitting in there assuming you have disappeared because you hate him. And just like that, leaving seems to require one tiny clarification.

So you open the door again, but only a little—just enough to slip in one tiny clarification. You are not coming back, obviously. This barely even counts as opening the door.

You Only Came Back to Explain One Thing

You tell him you are not trying to punish him, that you simply need some space, and of course you hope he understands. You wish him well too, because naturally you do, and for a moment that seems like enough.

The door closes again.

Except now you are wondering whether “I need space” sounded a little cold, so back you go. You explain that you do care about him, which is partly why this is difficult in the first place. The relationship did not mean nothing—quite the opposite—and somehow that starts sounding like one more reason to explain why you need to step away from it.

There. Much warmer.

You close the door again and make it several emotional feet down the hallway before remembering something else he could misunderstand, which is how a perfectly reasonable goodbye begins turning into one of those departures where nobody actually departs.

From a little distance, it is rather funny. You have gone no contact, except you keep popping back into the doorway to explain why you are going no contact.

At this rate, refreshments may be required.

Guilt Has Several Follow-Up Questions

The funny thing about guilt is that it can agree completely with your decision and still follow you straight into the hallway. Was the goodbye kind enough? Did he understand? Is he hurt? Should you make sure he knows he is not a terrible person? What if he is having a difficult evening? What if your silence feels cruel?

Before long, his possible feelings have become the main event, even though you are supposed to be leaving. And once guilt gets involved, every little urge to contact him somehow starts sounding like good manners.

Of course, you are not reopening the conversation. You are merely checking that he is okay, which is completely different. And you are certainly not stepping back into the relationship—good heavens, no—you are simply sending one tiny message so he knows your silence should not be taken personally.

Which is quite funny, really, considering you are explaining all of this by sending him a message.

And that is how you can end up needing distance from a man while also worrying that your absence is making him uncomfortable.

So now even leaving has somehow come with hosting duties. Not bad for somebody who was supposed to be halfway down the hallway by now.

Meanwhile, who knows what he is actually feeling? Maybe he is upset, maybe he misses you, maybe he thinks the silence is unnecessary, or maybe he has managed to collect all three by lunchtime.

Fine.

And somehow, in your mind, every feeling he might possibly be having becomes another excuse to open the door again.

At Some Point You Do Have to Leave

Eventually, even the doorway starts to look ridiculous.

You have said goodbye kindly, explained yourself, reassured him that he is not secretly starring as the villain in your personal story, and possibly wished him happiness, peace and a very pleasant rest of his life. There really is not much left to add.

Guilt, naturally, disagrees.

Maybe just send a heart?

No.

We have been here long enough.

This is where guilt really earns its keep: a simple goodbye can turn into an elaborate farewell ceremony before you know it. You leave, return to soften the leaving, leave again, come back to explain the softening, and before long you are basically living in the doorway.

By now, even the doorway must be wondering whether you are actually leaving.

Eventually, though, the conversation runs out of places to go. Nothing new has happened, nobody needs another explanation, and you have reached that slightly awkward point where the goodbye has already been said but the person who said it is somehow still standing there.

So eventually, the door closes.

And this time, you actually leave.