I’m no wiser than the fool I was before
I justified getting into a relationship with someone who was admittedly emotionally unavailable with needing to experience heartbreak. Yuuup, I fucking signed up for it. I thought it was a part of life that I just had to experience. Maybe I thought at some point he’d change his mind, or maybe I just wanted to understand country songs a bit better? Regardless, I really thought that when the inevitable happened I would be prepared. I would come out of the relationship a better person, thankful for the experience provided, if that makes any sense… Instead I shut my eyes at every red flag, I ignored my instincts and compromised myself to the point that when our doomed relationship finally came to an end I had no idea who I was or what I wanted. I’ve never had that gut-wrenching hurt before, a fine mixture of sadness and physical pain, but there it was, in all it’s panicky glory. Needless to say I have seen the light, and although wishing that said light was an oncoming freight train, I can now say I’ve experienced heartbreak. Yay!? It can now be crossed off my “Bucket List of Self-Defeating Agony” (It was right between taking up heroin and getting a cat.) What was I thinking?
I don’t want to give this guy too much credit, but I still struggle with fleeting thoughts of what could’ve been and fond memories of our past, mind you they always seem to be wedged between legitimate hatred. I still allow him to enter and exit my life (and other parts of me) at his convenience. In a town this small it’s hard not to witness who’s sucking on his face next to me with no regard for my feeling (I didn’t pluralize that on purpose, before this I was a little worried that I had none), or hear about his latest hookups. Yet I allow him into my house on the rare occasion he remembers that I still have a pulse, and inescapably my bed, hoping this will be the time he’ll appreciate me… All of me, not just, well you know. At this point I’m unsure if I regret the entire relationship or just the part where I was a doormat. I truly believe heartbreak was inevitable with him. I saw the trail of broken hearts and CONSCIOUSLY decided that I wanted to be added to the pile. Again, what was I thinking?
…I was probably thinking that I liked this person, a lot. I wanted to explore what a kind of relationship we could have. The classic story of girl meets boy, boy doesn’t want to be tied down, girl likes that boy is unattainable and eventually wears him down, they fall in love, boy says love from girl is not enough then leaves… How is that not fucking romantic? My first mistake (definitely not my only) was not being truthful with myself and ignoring the blatantly obvious… HE FUCKING SAID HE WASN’T EMOTIONALLY AVAILABLE. I know now that when someone can identify that in themselves, you should probably just believe them, there is zero reward in investigating that any further. I also realize that I have pretty good instincts, and my self-doubt is completely unnecessary. I shouldn’t feel guilty for needing basic security in a relationship, knowing what’s important to me is beneficial for all involved. Through this experience the friends separated themselves from the presumptuous ass-faces dressed in friend’s clothing. I still maintain that I’m fucking awesome, and deserving of someone that loves me just as much as I love them… So I guess I did gain some knowledge, seems barely worth it, but silver linings and shit… I still have no clue what country songs are about, but I’m 100% okay with that.
I will forgive myself for letting this happen, working on it. The possibility of going through this again is terrifying. My Mom says I need to get better at guarding my heart. She also blames crack heads for eating all the cereal, so you know… I think I just need to let it go (sounds simple, but this is mind-bendingly hard, way worse than sudoku), be smarter, and trust myself. I can’t be scared of getting my heart broken again, God knows I NEED to get laid and that probably won’t happen while I’m carrying around this baggage. I just have to get past today, it’s the toughest part. I hope next year I will hurt less and the thoughts of him will have faded. Three years ago today I baked the guy a cake, gave him a present, and let him touch my butt… seems like a healthy enough beginning, right? Last year at this time we were in Grande Prairie celebrating his birthday at Denny’s and I remember specifically asking myself how life could possibly get any better? To be fair, I WAS eating cheesy fries at the time. As reluctant as I am, I guess I’m going to have to find out.
Bye Hunky Brewster!
For the record, I did love you with all the heart I never knew existed