Exit strategy

Illustration: Emily Flake

It’s hard enough to break up with your S.O. when you were clearly in a relationship. But how do you deal with ending something in those nebulous first stages—before it’s a real-ationship?

You know, you go out a few times, or perhaps you even date for a few months, but you never have the “exclusivity talk.” Then, for whatever reason, he or she disappears. While it’s easy to dismiss these embryonic affairs, they can be like paper cuts: tiny, so it shouldn’t hurt, yet it can still sting like a bitch. It’s a gray area, which means that no one agrees on the right way to end things—or if they should even bother to try. After all, it can be a touch presumptuous to “dump” someone who doesn’t even think they’re dating you.

The default seems to be “fade to black,” which leaves the other person without closure, thinking they still have a chance when they don’t.

My friend, K., 25, advocates this tactic, adding “You don’t owe him anything. Just stop returning his calls and walk away. Eventually he gets the point and you don’t have to deal with the awkward conversation of breaking up with someone whom you weren’t ever really exclusive to begin with.” I think that’s bullshit, and an irresponsible way to treat people.

Because, at best, it leaves you puzzled—and that consumes time and energy. At worst, as one 28-year-old lawyer wrote me, you end up “heartbroken and clueless.” After all, you don’t need to be tattooing his name on your left butt cheek to have feelings. “Just because you never DTR (defined the relationship) doesn’t mean it’s not important enough to talk about ending it,” says Hannah, 21, a student.

Take the case of the actor I dated for about two minutes. Despite the short time frame, I was smitten. After all, I’m used to the questionable charms of tech geeks, not men schooled in the art of seduction. I didn’t stand a chance. We met in one city, then e-mailed and called for three weeks until we met for a long weekend in another. Great weekend. And after the weekend, nada. For weeks I wondered what happened, and it felt like shit.

Then there was the guy (we’ll call him “Prince Lorenzo from The Bachelor”) I went on five dates with last summer. Then I went away (to Italy), and the next week he went away (also to Italy). Uh, obviously not together. I e-mailed him. Crickets.

When I e-mailed his highness for this article, he responded: “Julia, no one can be dumped if you’re not dating. What happened between us is that neither of us showed much effort to bring the relationship to the next step.” Maybe so, but how tough is a “nice to have met you, but I’m not giving you a rose at the rose ceremony” e-mail? We humans like defined beginnings and endings. I’d prefer to now I’m out of the running rather than worry he didn’t make it back through immigration.

Or maybe we just want control. Another friend, C., 24, is loath to formally end not-quite-lationships. “I want to keep my options open. I don’t want to break up, but I don’t want to have a relationship. If you fade out you can still call back.”

It’s like college waiting lists. You got into Princeton. So why take up a space at your safety school? You know you won’t go there. But you don’t want to take your name off, just in case you change your mind.

“Even in the interview world you’re supposed to let them know you no longer want to be considered as a candidate, that you’re pursuing other opportunities,” says C., who’s currently interviewing, and has no intention of telling any of her first rounds that she’s off the market. Naughty. There’s a reason that’s what you’re “supposed” to do—even if it’s uncomfortable. It’s irresponsible to place holds on people and jobs: Particularly when there are others who may want them.

“People who go MIA are just making it easier on themselves,” says R., 24, a filmmaker. “I swallow my pride and let them know how I feel. Honesty may hurt, but it’s the only thing separating us from the emotional vampires.”

“When you break something that has a formal existence, the lines are—at the very least—clean,” writes Sarah, 23, a student. “When something slips through your hands that you never defined, there’s nothing but sharp, jagged edges that make little sense to you. There’s nothing to get over, nothing to grieve.”

So next time, drop a quick line: “Hey, you’re great, but I’m just not ready for a relationship right now.” Your dating karma will thank you.

There’s a text message sitting in my phone right now from a guy who’s asked me out a few times and taken me on one date. Just one, but I never returned his last text. He wasn’t a bad guy—I just wasn’t into it. And it feels rude not to tell him. And guess what? It feels rude because it is rude! I’m texting him right now.

E-mail her at julia@timeoutny.com.

See previous Julia Alsion on Dating