Blue, family in Florida, chimneys, and DnD
And that title has nothing to do with this post or our experience. Just a specific but not unique identifier to hide this behind.
I don’t think about you much; well, as much anymore. I’ve been busy.
You popped up last year and I’m not sure if it was the anxiety of the situation I was mired in or if I read it correctly, but you seemed to be info digging which felt so weird from you. You asked me why I did something that you were very present in my life when I did it.
I imagine you’ve heard all kinds of things about me. The person least in control of my perception is me; if you could, just remember the person you knew and that not all sources are good ones.
Though I’m not sure why that matters to me; i literally don’t care what anyone thinks of me, but that conversation has burned in my chest since last September (or was it October?).
I’m sorry I blocked you but I…there’s no room in my life for lack of clarity, unknown boundaries, and more people pretending I’m somehow a radically different villain type rather than the person they knew. The thing about fighting the type of battle in fighting is that rebranding me is a key part for the other side. And not just them.
Im not perfect. I’ve never been good at admitting that, less from pride and more because I so badly want to be the person I aspire to be. Perfection is obviously a myth, but trauma and having everything I did and said held against me by the person (obviously not you) that broke me and her made it and me worse. I have never struggled with accountability, but when admitting fault felt like a risk that would end up on fixer; even ona microscale, preservation over time turned into …someone I don’t even respect.
How much I loved you scared me so badly, and only recently have I been able to name that. I didn’t understand why, not with all of the mess, and the flightiness, and the deer freeze panic at normal relationship stuff. I thought I must be tricking you into liking me but I couldn’t figure out how.
I pulled back because I was so afraid of one more hurt, of inevitably losing you, that it became a large part of the reason I lost you.
And then my spiral afterwards is one I’ve apologized for but will never not feel absolutely ashamed and genuinely boggled by. Break ups for me have always been block and don’t contact. Not for spite, but because it’s clean and it’s final.
I can say “oh the trauma” as the reason til the cows come home but the only thing I’ll ever blame is myself.
I wish I had come to stay that time you made that absolutely beautiful offer. Not just for us, but also….
Anyway, I have literally not one negative feeling toward you—there’s no reason i should. I’m so happy for all you’ve accomplished and not a little surprised; I knew you’d reach every goal you had. And I will always root for you. But I won’t bother you.
I hope you fall in love and have a family. You’d make a fantastic father and husband/life partner.
I once said I’d always love you. I suppose it’s true. But it’s not the constant pang it was for so long. But it does feel like a thread I can’t do anything about and I’ve never had that before. But I’m used to it now and life and fighting figuratively and literally everyone for what’s right while working and going back to school and parenting is really ..time consuming to say the least.
I wish we could have been really good friends after. That we aren’t is on me.
I wish…for things that have been stupid to wish for far too long for them to ache in my chest from time to time.
You use this site but won’t see this; you’re not drawn to the silly corners of this weird place like me. But I found out recently I’m sick (curable, scary, responsible for the surge of stifled thoughts but not the cause of them) and today I couldn’t sit still without feeling like I left message out in this ether telling you that we were my fault, I acted like a nutcase, I pulled away then had the audacity to be surprised when you finally did too, it was one of the bigger mistakes of my life, I’m still the person you knew but if you doubt that even given the context honestly that’s just understandable, you saved me during a time fear and anxiety were eating me alive, you ended up being right about more than you know, I am so proud of your accomplishments and know you’ll only keep going, and somehow, even if it’s silly to everyone but me, I loved you more than I’d ever loved anyone and it wasn’t limerance or lust, it felt like home. I wish I’d already had enough therapy then to not be terrified of that.
I miss your dimples and even your grouchy, but quietly and not in your way.
Thank you. I’m so sorry. I’m lucky to have had you in my life. Never forget the difference you made and don’t stop flying.
From,
the southern girl who finally moved out of the south, got divorced, started therapy, and hasn’t broken anymore oven doors.