green-eyed monster
She came with us on a couples outing, and I realized almost instantly that I do not like her. I tend to judge people instantly, harshly, and hold them to that, which is my flaw. I admit it, freely. I need to stop being so rigid.
But it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m usually right. ”I can tell instantly about people. It’s a gift.”
When I walked into the room, I heard her saying that she thought we had broken up. She could not have sounded happier about this mistake. BFF was there, laughing at her and the look on my face. The BF looked confused and uncomfortable. I wanted to slam the door in her face, but settled for handing the child to him and being mildly possessive.
Now it’s the little things that make my ears burn and fingers itch to accidentally get caught in her hair… and pull.
She’ll come over whenever possible, “to hang out with the group”… then stay until all the others have left, just watching us. (Who sits on a couch and watches a couple make out?? Can we say ‘creeper’?)
I’m still not worried about him ever cheating on me.
I just have to worry about keeping myself from physical violence.
The boyfriend laughs at me. He thinks it’s sexy that I feel possessive of him.
Then he saw a couple texts on my phone from flirty boys and the shoe was on the other foot.
(Ha.)
It’s funny; I’ve never felt this open in a relationship. I don’t mind that he’s aware that there are guys who would do anything for me. I don’t care that he knows (and remembers by name) that there are three or four who still text me wanting to ‘meet up.’ (“Come on, baby, he doesn’t have to know.”) The first time someone hit on me in his presence was an interesting experience. (We were in a bookstore and he was looking at books one row down, so we weren’t being all couple-y. and the poor guy I had to shoot down was really very creative and sweet.) Instead of being jealous and possessive, he had the biggest grin for the next hour. When I asked him about it, he only said, “Damn straight he thinks you’re pretty and wants your number.”
I think it’s good for our egos, in a strange way. It’s good for us to know that there are other people who want to be with us (and with our significant others), and it helps us reaffirm the relationship by being open about it. I’m not going to lie, I do get slightly more PDA-prone when I know she’s around (and watching…. *shudder*).
I do not, however, enjoy the feeling that she’s keeping tabs on ‘us.’ When I was at his alumni game, I heard her saying in an undertone “That’s his girlfriend,” and other voices saying, “Really?” It helped, though, that he dragged over several guys and proudly introduced me as “This is my girlfriend,” leaving me to supply my name. He loves to introduce me to people like that; relationship label out in front. He’s told me that he can’t wait to introduce me as his wife.
It’s interesting, though, because I don’t refer to him as my boyfriend to other people. I give his name, and assume that they’ll connect the dots, because usually his arm is around me or he’s doing some ridiculously cute boyfriend thing. The other day, the BFF and I were making plans, and instead of saying his name, she said something about “your boyfriend,” and I couldn’t stop smiling.
Life is strange.
We’re still in the honeymoon phase. I wonder how long it’ll last.
Letters to the past
Dear Jerk:
It’s funny, really. You’re the most impulsive person I know, and yet you see yourself as cool, logical, even-headed.
You rushed into the relationship so quickly I’m not sure you even thought about what that would mean. I got swept into the whirlwind romance of it all, suddenly and deeply “in love” so fast that I couldn’t quite see (let alone think) straight.
And it was over, just as swiftly. You were in love with the feeling, chasing it with whomever you could until you got what you wanted deserved.
You insist you still love me, even though we cannot be together and irrevocable decisions have been made. Mostly on your part. By your poor impulse control and your inability to keep it in your pants.
What part of “Goodbye” is unclear to you?
Which word in “Let me move on” do you not understand?
In what way could I rephrase “Leave me the hell alone” so that you can gather the full meaning and the implications involved?
Dear Ex-First-Love:
You are in my brain. I can ignore you easily for the most part, but I’ll see your car model, a camera, certain types of music, and there you are again. It’s as if I can hear your voice in my head, a running commentary on my day-to-day actions, decisions, and circumstances.
Please. Get out. Leave me alone.
And that part of my soul, the one that seems to belong to you? Please leave it behind when you go. I want it back now. I know I said I’d love you forever, but I’m tired of forever. I want to be free.
I’m tired of memories of you coming up and getting in the way of my memories of the boyfriend. I know we grew up together, the four of us, (you, me, the bestie, and the boyfriend), so of course you’ll be there. But I want to look back with fewer regrets. I’m tired of nearly choking on all the words left unspoken, all the bottled memories I have to suppress. I want to move on completely.
I just want closure. You see, ten years of friendship plus a two-year-relationship stint means that there will always be loose ends and lingering feelings. But it’s been four and a half fucking years. There have been others since you, but somehow none of them have managed to stick the way you have. Maybe because you were so good at the manipulation and the emotional abuse.
Jackass.
Fuck off and leave me alone.
Dear Pseudo:
Our relationship has been the most confusing of all. My subconscious still isn’t quite sure how to characterize you, and whenever you come to mind, pain and regret at all that was left unsaid is sure to follow. So many of my day-to-day memories are full of moments with you. Hell, we lived life alongside each other for a good two to three years, so of course I can’t see a blender without thinking of you, or wander down store aisles without hearing your quips about various products. I can’t cook without hearing your instructions in my head; for crying out loud, I still move around the kitchen as if you’re there with me, dancing around each other as we prepare amazing food for friends. I still feel you brushing past me when I reach for ingredients, your hand on my back as I open the oven door.
You started dating her and got engaged so fast that everyone was left stammering, most of all me. (I mean, come on. Two months?? That’s faster than most couples in Hollywood.)
I felt like Sally, sobbing to Harry that, “He just met her… She’s supposed to be his transitional person, she’s not supposed to be the ONE. All this time I thought he didn’t want to get married. But, the truth is, he didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t love me.”
Why? What was so wrong with me? Why didn’t you want me?
If I could take you back now, would I? Of course not. I love the boyfriend, and we much better suited for one another. But… why? There’s this big gaping hole in my heart and I don’t know how to fix it, and I feel like I can’t move on with the boyfriend until I understand why.
Because life doesn’t work that way. It’s always neat and tidy, you always have an explanation, and even though breakups are messy and spew hurt everywhere, you at least get all the answers out there.
…right?
I now understand what my bestie felt like, when her first love got married. The whole time he and that other girl were dating, we’d nod sagely to one another and comment how it was clear that they didn’t belong together because he had totally changed himself for her, and she’d become what she thought he wanted, and it bugged the two of us that neither one of them were being honest with each other, let alone the world.
But then they got married, and she was left standing there, still hurt, confused and rationalizing. Now they’re pregnant, and I still see the pain in her eyes as she tries to reconcile the fact that he’s a completely different person than the man who loved her.
I understand.
Why?
And why do I still miss you so much?
I feel like (and you’ll laugh) Rogue, when she was stuck with the memories of all the people she’d touched. They have all become a part of me, and time isn’t healing as fast as it should.
I wish I hadn’t been so free with love, but that’s the way I am. I love deeply and for a long time. It sucks but it’s me.
I don’t think I’d change anything, because I’m glad of the damage even with the lingering memories. It’s changed me, made me stronger, helped me grow, and I can relate to others that much more. And all of them have helped me love the boyfriend more and more and more, because he truly is my match.
Oh happy day!
I have become accustomed to the random pangs of old hurts and unfinished business that still accompany flashbacks. When my first ex-boyfriend crosses my mind, there are still feelings of frustration and resentment that roil just beneath the surface. I try not to ever think about the two or three that came after him, because I usually want to squirm with embarrassment and hide my face in mortification and mumble “oh my God what was I thinking?” And when the Pseudo comes to mind, he’s accompanied with sadness and a vague feeling of loss, but no sharp stabbing pain, thankfully.
But. There was one relationship that really tore me apart. I had never loved that deeply, felt that intensely head-over-heels crazy for another person before. He knew all the right words to say, and had me completely swept off my feet in a matter of months. I was ready to turn my life upside down and inside out for him. Thank God that life interfered, and, due to external forces (well, mainly he turned out to be a cheating scummy bastard who knocked up the girl he slept with), we broke up. Actually, I got my first taste of “oh, wow, he’s quite a piece of work,” and realized that I had to be the one to break up with him because he wasn’t going to do it himself.
Long story short, I did, but it was the most painful process I had ever gone through. It took a very long time to get him all the way out of my life, but I was able to do it, with the help of some of the most amazing friends that I’ve been blessed to have. You should all be jealous. They rock.
Unfortunately, I can really pick winners. This one has the annoying tendency to pop up every two months or so, trying to weasel his way back into my life, no matter how I avoid or block him. (And to think, persistence was a character trait I had loved in him.) Whenever he does, he manages to dredge up all of the past sorrow and loss with him, leaving me feeling hurt all over again and frustrated that I let him get to me.
It happened again, recently. He came stumbling drunkenly back into my life, and I took a deep breath and internally steeled myself against all the hurt and pain that invariably rises to the top whenever he reappears.
And waited.
Counted to twenty, opened one eye cautiously (metaphorically speaking, of course).
Uh, hello? Agony, are you there? Pain, sorrow, regret? Guys?
I began cautiously letting out the air I’d inhaled in preparation for the oncoming sucker punch. What was going on?
I… I think I’m over him.
That’s not to say that I am exempt from the pain of old scars, but I am pretty sure that past regrets are over and done with.
I think it has something to do with the fact that The Boyfriend is in my life. Not only that, but I trust him, I’m comfortable with him, I love him deeply (but not crazy), and he knows me. We’ve known one another for 13 years; he knows me inside out. He actually helped me get through the breakup. I know that he would never cheat on me, that he loves me perhaps more than I love him (but he doesn’t, because I love him more), and that my life is on the Right Path.
I always felt vaguely guilty that I still had hurt and sorrow in my memories even when I’m with The Boyfriend now. I mean, I’m with him, so my past is invalid, right?
No, they will always be there. One or two will even have pieces of my heart, possibly forever. After all, they were important parts of my life, and just because time has moved on doesn’t render them invalid.
But I no longer have to feel the hurt and pain associated with them.
Oh happy day!
These are the moments
You know how in movies, they show a montage of the couple being happy together and having fun and being ridiculously cute, etc.? And it’s usually followed by some hardship that they have to go through, and they have to hold on to the happy memories and the strength of their bond to make it through, blah blah?
Well.
That’s where we’re at. At the happy part, I mean. I feel like we’re making all these happy memories for this random montage to be played in the future where we can cry and say ‘oh those were the days’ and be nostalgic.
We randomly went out last night, and we ended up going to this island nearby and wandering down to the fancy hotel bar and sitting by the fire for a bit then walking on the beach in the waves and making out and being so incredibly romantic that it hurt. Then on the way back we stopped by a place where they make ice cream and were romantic some more and I fell even deeper in love with him.
It’s odd, because I’ve always known him. And yet… now I know him. I love him more and more each day. I’m glad, because in the beginning, I thought “well yeah, I love him, but if this is it, I’m worried.” But everyone says you love people more as time goes on. And it’s true.
I feel so strangely protective of him sometimes. He’s never cared what people think, but I always have. It’s good for me to be with him because he helps balance me out… and vice versa.
Being human is no fun
…sometimes.
There are moments when I realize that my dog is infinitely happier than I am.
There are also times when being human means we make mistakes. We experience pain. And, since we haven’t reached enlightenment (yet…, or at least I’m the last to know), our past can still bring us pain.
For example: I’ve been in a few relationships. Since they are in my past, it is safe for you to assume that they failed. And unfortunately, most of them failed miserably (actually most were spectacularly awful). They failed for a number of reasons, but they each had one thing in common.
There was always another woman.
And yes, these experiences have changed me. I have grown from each encounter, I believe into a better person. However, there is one drawback: I have become a jealous person.
It’s painful to realize. I used to be carefree. I used to skip blithely through life, uncaring who my significant other talks to, works with, hangs out with when they’re not with me…. I didn’t care. I figured, hey, they have chosen to date me, so what could happen?
But after the first decided to leave me so he could date his co-worker, the second admitted that he was in love with his best (married) friend and she was leaving her husband for a trial separation so they could “see what happens,” and the third actually slept with his ex behind my back and got her pregnant, (then decided to “do the right thing” and marry her) (God he was such a winner), I have become slightly jumpy.
After all, they say that the only common factor in all your dysfunctional relationships is you. (or something to that effect.)
So it isn’t too hard to understand that I would be worried when his ex comes up often in conversations and likes to stalk him online and just so happens to remain involved in many of their past social activities.
Ugh. Love is hard. It’s difficult to care about someone, because then they have the power to hurt you.
Uhm, not gonna fly
Birthday in England: win
The BF not picking me up from the airport: fail
I don’t care that it’s a two-hour drive to the airport, (three in traffic) and my flight got in at one am. I was out of the country for two weeks. When you’re “in love,” you lose a little sleep!
This is going on the list of “Things You Only Get Away With Once, and Only After A Huge Fight.”
Big picture: not a big deal.
In the moment: BFD.
(Seriously, who doesn’t know this?)
Ross: Let’s say, Janice is coming back from a trip and she gives you two options. Option number 1, she’ll take a cab home from the airport. Option 2 is you can meet her at baggage claim. Which do you do?
Chandler: That’s easy, baggage claim.
Ross: (Buzzes) Wrong! Now you’re single. It’s actually secret option number three, you meet her at the gate. That way she knows you love her.
