Write this as a funny story. Use the tone, style, and humor of author David Sedaris. Feel free to create additional information and quotes to set the context or make the story funnier. 

Bring the story above to life by adding dialogues for me and my ex-girlfriend into the story .

My journey through love became a cautious dance, a delicate balance between yearning for intimacy and fearing emotional exposure. As I began dating, the threads of my childhood began to weave their way into the fabric of my relationships. My relationship history resembles a patchwork quilt, sewn together with threads of independence and a dash of emotional aloofness.

I met my ex-girlfriend, we were opposites. I was calm and boring, she was a bundle of joy. I love hiking and outdoors, she loved staying in with good food and Netflix. I barely spoke with my parents, while she had an intimate and confrontational relationship with hers. As they say, opposites attract.

In moments where vulnerability bridged between us, particularly when she bared her soul, I found my reaction was often a soft evasion. I skillfully diverted conversations to safe topics like the fickleness of weather or the volatility of the stock market. The walls I had unknowingly built during my childhood became a protective shield, deflecting the arrows of emotional exposure. I reveled in the physical aspects of our relationship, the tangible expressions of love that didn't demand me to traverse the treacherous terrain of emotions.

She sensed the subtle distance and yearned for a deeper connection. Her expressions of love were met with a hesitancy that danced on the edges of avoidance. Unintentionally mirroring the emotional landscape of my upbringing, I struggled to vocalize my feelings.

As time progressed, I began to recognize a troubling pattern: in my attempt to maintain an illusion of independence, I inadvertently deprioritized my own needs within the relationship. This oversight left an inner void, marked by subtle yet persistent desires unmet and aspirations subdued. With every sacrifice made in the name of autonomy, I edged away from the fulfillment that comes from mutual support and understanding.

As our relationship matured, the contours of my avoidant attachment began to cast a shadow on our shared future. The prospect of moving in together, a natural progression for many couples, became a minefield of hesitation for me. The thought of intertwining lives, sharing spaces not just physically but emotionally, triggered a subtle panic.

Avoidance became my default response. I started creating emotional distance, finding solace in work commitments or solo endeavors. I found refuge in the familiar rhythm of self-sufficiency, afraid that vulnerability might lead to a loss of control, a replay of the childhood narrative I had internalized. Conversations about the future became an intricate dance of ambiguity. In moments of conflict, the emotional walls fortified. 

This pattern of avoidance showed up again when I found myself wrestling with my Business School applications. Swallowed by pride and an irrational fear of feeling dependent, I chose to sever the lines of communication rather than seeking her assistance. I told myself that I had to solve the issue unaided, driven by the misconception that dependency was a sign of weakness—that opening up to her help would somehow make me less lovable or even unworthy. 

The long distance served as the final nail in the coffin of our relationship. I contemplate the ‘whys’ and ‘what-ifs’, recognizing the paradoxical longing for closeness I maintain, and the instinctive retreat from the vulnerability it necessitates. With this newfound awareness, perhaps the next steps in my dance of love will be towards growth and emotional courage, rather than retreat.