Finding the trees

“You need to dump him Kate!” she said to me after dinner while waiting for our check. “I know” I responded. “You told me yourself that he’s unmotivated and hasn’t changed. He’s 40” “36” I interject “Regardless, dump him”

She’s a year out of divorce and if she’s anything like me (which she is) she’s holding a grudge over all things male. Understandable. Her sleaze ball of a husband jerked her around like my ex did. I get her and her point.

We’ve been friends for 15 years. She gets me. And there’s something an outsider sees to a relationship that the participants never do. The whole “trees through the forest”. Yeah-yeah. I get it.

But there’s a part of me, the eternal optimist that keeps hoping things will change. He’ll actually give up smoking (like he keeps promising) and he’ll put more effort into finding a job he likes rather than stay at one he puts up with. He’ll get rid of his college roommate that he’s lived with for 10 years and he’ll quit bitching about how much work it needs and finally fix his “fixer upper” house he bought seven years ago.

I know the best indicator of future performance is past performance. But I no longer know what I’m holding on to.