Littlest Things

In my last post, I mentioned an ex that I wanted to see again, to show him that I'm okay. To show him that I'm not broken, that I have a happy life that I got on my own, without his help, because I never really needed his help. I'm not helpless, as he may have thought. 

After thinking more about it, I think what I really need is closure. I think that I may need to write him and let him know. That I'm okay. I don't need him. 

Letter to follow shortly. 

Wish You Well

Life is life. It is interesting. It is cheerful, hurtful, spiteful, lively, shocking – it is emotional.

And sometimes I can’t help but think about all these emotions that I felt throughout the years. Felt and suppressed, a lot has happened in my 25 (almost 26!) years of life. And I don’t want to forget it – no, no. I want to remember all of it. Every single detail, I want to remember. It is fun to go through old pictures and have the memories float through your head of what happened that day, with that person, in that place. It’s fun to read old emails and letters, feeling all of those emotions come back to you, remember how you felt about a person at a certain time in your life.

It is nice to go through old memories and think, “wow, I was loved.”

In the past year, I have grown up a lot. I started dating a man – it’s important to note that I am saying “man” and not “boy”. I have dated a lot of boys throughout the years, but now, I am with a man. He has a career that he cares about, a family that he enjoys spending time with, and a son that he loves dearly; which means that he has a family and a son that I spend time with and love dearly. That also means that I have given up my party ways, my silly, indecisive ways, and I have stuck to this boy. I haven’t played games with him, nor him with me. We’re just together, through good times and bad. We’re an item. We’re “going steady”.

And I think that’s why I have reached deep into my memories these past few weeks to relive things. In no way is our relationship boring, I am having the most fun of my life, and I have never been deeper in love. So I started wondering about my past loves.

I think of their faces, of our ‘love’ and promises, and wonder what happened to them. I don’t talk to any of my ex-boyfriends, and not because of any type of hate, at least not on my part. It’s as if we just outgrew one another.

There was one boy, and we were crazy for one another. We were 18, I was his first girlfriend, his first. He came with me to my grad, bought me flowers all the time, went ahead of me to the beach on a day he knew I was there with a friend to write our names together on a rock in a heart. I was head over heels for him, and him for me. But I was young and emotionally damaged, and by accident, I emotionally damaged him. For months after we broke up, nothing changed. We would hang out, hold hands, go on dates, just being in love. Always saying that we were meant to be, it just wouldn’t work now because we were young. In the future, we would be together again, we just knew that we would. Maybe that’s why we had to stop talking. I tried to keep it going, mainly because I couldn’t let go of him. The only boy that treated me so nicely, that never truly expected anything  but for me to be me. We would have been great for one another – however, I do like spending more time at home than I do going out to party. That was our downfall: I don’t care for people, while he is very much a people person.  I often wonder how he’s doing in life, just because he was such a nice boy.

I did tell one of them to never talk to me again, the boy I dated before my current relationship. Not to sound like I have a big ego, but I never truly felt that he got over me. He always just wanted to ‘help’ me, he always wanted to be there for me. He treated me like a child when we were together, and three years after we broke up, he was still there, trying to help me in any way possible that I would let him. I felt suffocated, and he made me feel broken, when I was complete – especially once I didn’t have him in my life. I sometimes wonder where he is in life, and sometimes I hope that I will see him again, especially when I’m with my boyfriend, just so I can say, “See? I don’t need you. I have a perfect life, that I got on my own, without your help. Because I’m not helpless, and I’m not broken.”

I’m not that old, but I’m already enjoying taking strolls down memory lane. Sometimes you don’t really realize what’s going on in front of you until hours, days, months, maybe even years later. Only now am I seeing some of the repercussions of some of the events that had a play in my life. But I don’t regret anything. Everything that has happened to me helped me become who I am.

Maybe I could have been a better person, but then again, maybe I could have been worse.

Moonshine

I don’t know I stopped writing here, but I tend to go through spurts of it. Sometimes I will write a lot, but then I won’t write again for another 5 months.

It appears that I haven’t written for 8 months. Since that horrible ordeal that I went through with boyfriend, not knowing what he wanted. So many tears were shed during that time, and I honestly didn’t know how the whole thing was going to end. Would it end? Or would we somehow find a way to get past it?

Somehow, we did find a way to get past it, but not in the normal way. We didn’t talk about our feelings, he didn’t tell me what had happened, what had made him flip the way he did. I think I know what it was about (his age, a lot of his friends are either engaged or married), but we never talked about it. Which isn’t healthy, I know, but we are both people who avoid confrontations where people will get hurt. And we were both so hurt during that time. He told me later that when we were laying in bed, him holding me, I broke his heart when I said, “Is this the last time you will hold me like this?” We both cried that night. We both cried the next morning as well, as I packed up everything I owned and left.

Neither of us wanted to talk about that time. We didn’t want to go back to those feelings of hurt and confusion.

So for a month it was weird. We were in such a weird place. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, he wasn’t sure how long it would last and if he wanted to put himself in that vulnerable position again.

But slowly, my stuff made its way back. I completely removed myself from his life, made it so that if he wanted me, he had to do it. And he did. He talked to me more, wanted me to come out more. I gave him the option to come to me or leave me, and, thankfully, he came to me.

We celebrated our one year together; but not how I would have wanted it. Our one year happens to fall the weekend of his family’s reunion, as he officially asked me as he was about to embark on the trip. Probably to ensure that I would not fool around with any other guy while he was gone. Anyways, it was spent in the truck, making the 6 hour drive to his family’s cabin.

Then last July, he said we should discuss moving in together.

Last October, I moved in.