I realize now that I will never get closure. I will never get to have that conversation with the person I used to know. I won’t ever know why she didn’t trust me enough to be honest about her truth or what her truth actually is. There is no knowing what I did wrong, what I could have done better if anything, or why I wasn’t good enough for her. The truth is I was always too good for her, but I didn’t realize it. She acts as if I have committed some atrocious sin against her, when I did nothing wrong. I accepted her unconditionally, loved her with all the love I had to give, sacrificed, compromised, and worked at a relationship that would never work. You can’t make a life partnership out of what should have been a one night stand. I was proud that what should have been a one night stand wasn’t. I slept on her couch when we were both drunk and lonely. I did what seemed like the right thing. Then, we kept seeing each other, there were words like “I need you”, “mutually exclusive”, fears of using the L word, eventually not being able to deny it was love. She was scared of me, didn’t trust me, and I vowed to never intentionally hurt her, which I kept my promise. It seemed so right. We were cautious and took things slow. Maybe a year and a half was too fast to move in together, I don’t know. We turned into a couple, a codependent couple, that “needed” each other, that basically only spent time with one another, that constantly had to say “I love you”, despite my theory that if you have to announce that all the time, maybe you really don’t love each other.
The line from Perks of Being a Wallflower comes to mind. “We accept the love we think we deserve”. We both did. I will never hear these words from her, but I didn’t do it for her. I wasn’t who she wanted to be with. I’m not into material things. I’m not a trophy wife. I’m not into codependency. I am insecure, like to read books, a hippie, and a homebody. I no longer need to apologize for being those things. I accepted the love I thought I deserved too, perhaps because I hadn’t experienced requited love before. I allowed her to treat me in ways I shouldn’t allow anyone to treat me. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of, mostly financially, but emotionally too. I allowed her to need me. I became a caretaker when I didn’t want to be. All though I won’t ever hear it from her, I can guess at things I did that made the relationship fail, things I vow to myself I won’t ever do again. I didn’t speak up when I needed to, I held on to resentment, I played narratives in my head without asking what she was actually feeling or thinking, I learned helplessness to please her, I tried so hard to please her rather than focusing on my own stuff, I let her put me down, I believed the things she said, and I tolerated poor treatment for way too long. Eventually, I resented her so much that I justified cheating on her, not as an intentional attack, but as a way of getting my needs met when she chose not to change after our discussions. She wasn’t paying enough attention to know that I was cheating on her, but holding on to that sort of secret certainly probably didn’t help the relationship.
There are so many random memories, good and bad, from the relationship. I go through them in my head enough that I don’t need to do so here. Something I miss is being intimately known by another person. The existentialist in me says we’re born alone, we die alone, and we walk this earth alone. Sometimes we share experiences, but ultimately everyone’s experience is different and we’re still alone in that. Being in a relationship, no matter how poor it was at times, alleviated that. We experienced a lot together and knew each other in a way that others didn’t. All these memories in my head are now just mine and no one else would understand them. She understands them and has similar memories. This is one of the few reasons I have to try to leave communication open between each other. I find the good in people, I understand to an extent why she has created a new truth for herself, why she doesn’t share about her past, and I forgive her for everything she did to me. I take responsibility for my role. I don’t hate her, I don’t love her, I don’t feel that strongly about her any more. However, I miss her to some degree, to the extent of having shared memories, of having known each other intimately, and that we were together for so long. I don’t want to be friends with her. I don’t think she is a good person or someone that I want to spend my time and energy on. I don’t see myself gaining anything positive by being in her presence or communicating with her. I guess she may feel the same way, because she doesn’t try either.
It was her birthday the other day and I said happy birthday. She said nothing. No thank you. No response. I’m not surprised and I don’t particularly care, other than that I don’t understand how I’m just basically dead to her. It would be unfair of me to expect myself to just be over it after three months, almost four. I can’t expect myself to be unaffected by it and to quickly move on from it. It has been a process to even accept the ways in which I will have to recover from this relationship, mostly financially. I was so pissed about it at first, but now I realize that I just need to do something about it. The debt won’t magically disappear. It is easy to think about the financial piece and make a plan. It is practical. The emotional stuff just comes up out of nowhere. I want to believe that I don’t still hurt, that I can just trust people, that I’m happier than ever, that I’m unaffected emotionally. That simply isn’t true and would be weird if it were. It has only been three months.
My thoughts and feelings are incongruous at best. Part of me is so skeptical, untrusting, questions everything, and feels as if my heart was ripped out, stomped on a million times, and that I’ve tried to sew it back in, but my body isn’t taking it. It feels like my heart is half hanging out my chest for everyone to see it, all beat up and battered. Another part of me can’t help but trust, is romantic, and I think that no one could hurt me as bad as she did and I survived it, so I could survive any other potential heartbreak. That part of me says to allow myself to take the risk of loving another again, because I know I’ll be okay with or without another person. I’m far too guarded to use terms like love and any potential future love would be cautious. The future holds what it holds, but I don’t even imagine myself living with a person again. I don’t imagine committing to life long partnership or saying I love you or sharing bills or spending holidays together. At this point, I don’t imagine much. I imagine getting through the next day and at most, the next month.
It feels so strange to have been with someone for 6 years, to have shared so much, and then to have no communication with that person. It took me all summer, just three short months, to come to terms with it. I finally traded the damn car and I probably could have done that much earlier in the summer. Granted, I was hoping someone would buy it from me directly and I would sell it for what it was worth. I think subconsciously I didn’t make any moves, because it was a connection to my past life. It was a cord I had to cut. Getting rid of the car was step 1. I’ve been playing these games with the phone bill. She is still on it with the agreement to pay half. I’ve allowed her to this in large part, to keep the communication between us open. I say things like “I’m being nice and it would be cruel to cut off her phone” or “it is cheaper for me”. These things are true, but I know that if I cut it off, I won’t have her new number, and we likely won’t speak again. I wasn’t ready for that. I became ready for that when she put the money, which was short, under the dog bowl at my house, a week late, rather than making an effort to meet me, to pay the actual amount on time. I need to stop caring for my own sake. I’m finally ready to cut that cord. I won’t have her number. We won’t speak. I won’t know how she is doing and she won’t know how I’m doing.
She will become somebody that I used to know. That is all the closure I will get. I finally accept that and have challenged myself to not attach meaning to it. Our relationship was good while it was, I experienced a lot, I’m grateful for what I’ve learned, I’m even grateful for her presence in my life. That doesn’t mean she gets to continue to be in my life. That doesn’t mean I need to continue to try to be nice or let her have any sort of power over me. Just because we were together for x amount of time and said we’d be together forever, doesn’t make me obligated to to do anything for her. I don’t need to pay her damn phone bill and make arrangements for her to pay me back. I don’t need to wish her a happy birthday. I don’t need to hang on to some notion of us being amiable with each other. She is simply one of few that I truly loved, she is a person I was with, and now she is just somebody that I used to know.