I bought a new drill today and you were the first person I wanted to tell. I wonder when that urge to tell you something will go away. Memories of you are like neon signs in my brain flashing images of cuddles, smiles, smells, cars, radios, texts. But you're my past tense now and I'm struggling to accept that. I know it isn't fair that I reached out to you in an effort to be comforted. Truthfully, I needed attention from you because it was the only way I could feel relevant. Like I mattered or that you cared about me. That you loved me.
It's quiet since you've been gone. Screeching silence. The sound of you not texting me good night before you go to bed. The sound of you not calling me after a meeting--it visits me every night. The sound of your silence is haunting.
You fill other rooms with laughter. Rooms occupied with other people. Rooms where I am no longer welcome. Do you cuddle her on the same couch you fucked me on? Does she know or care? What do you say about me? Do you tell her I was crazy? That I'm a nutso basketcase? It would be fair if you did, but I hope that's not all you say. Maybe you could mention that I hate dancing but sometimes I squiggle. Maybe you could tell her I hate chicken but I eat it for the protein. Maybe you tell her I love poetry.
But why focus on her? You do enough of that so I certainly won't. I'm surprised is all. That someone else is your girlfriend. Other girls played the role in your past, I know, but I really identified with it. Some days it was a difficult role to play. Like when you never asked me questions or tried to get to know me. Or when you kept forgetting that I love cherries but hate cherry fizzy water. Or when you'd get mad but wouldn't communicate it. I know I was hard, but you were hard too. Your life philosophy that "if you don't mind it don't matter" was idealistic but inaccurate; you are the most uptight and serious person I know. As Aristotle said, "you are what you repeatedly do". Our actions form other people's opinions of us, not our thoughts, not our intentions. Your actions were hard sometimes.
Despite this, I never for a million years thought we wouldn't be friends. Maybe it's inaccurate to assume the loss of our friendship based on your failure to respond to my text. But how else am I meant to take it? Truthfully, I've been seeking counsel--asking for advice from anyone who will listen. I feel like a fucking teenager giving play by plays of events and showing text messages. But it makes me feel like I have a semblance of control in the situation. Yes, I broke up with you but you sealed the nail and made it dunzo. I don't blame you for that but I can still be mad and disappointed about it, but you didn't do anything wrong. You just moved on is all. It's a tough jagged little pill to swallow.
It's not that I wanted to get back together, but I wanted you to want me. That's all I've ever wanted. I've been starving for your attention for years. You were so hot and cold that it felt refreshing to get it. Did you know that you're moody? You should know that about yourself. I'm moody too, but I admit it. I don't hide behind a cowboy hat of bravado and self-righteousness.
I thought about you a lot today. Every time I got a text notification I had hope that it was you, but it's not fair to want your attention anymore. You're not mine. Even when you were, your attention was hard to get. You know what's weird? I had grown so accustomed to your emotional unavailability for the first 7 years of our relationship that when you finally let your guard down, it was weird as shit. Like this thing that i'd been waiting years for finally arrived and it was so fucking eerie and misplaced that I didn't know what to do with it. I felt so alone and lonely in that relationship that when you finally decided to show up, it felt like there were too many people involved. Because it was too late. You kept yourself kempt in a fucking fortress high above reality and when you finally came down I didn't know what the fuck was going on.
Could we have made it work? Do you think? I really don't know. All relationships have issues, but ours were too quiet. We never fought. Which means we never worked out our differences--we just buried them further and further down. I guess taking the risk and seeing how our future played out just didn't make sense. The logistics made it impossible. Yesterday someone told me that if we really wanted to make it work we would have found a way. I honestly can't see a path that led to us staying together forever, at least not happily. We were on cruise control, which is fine, and easy, and comfortable but it's also stifling. We weren't headed anywhere. Even if we got engaged or married, it would be like, ok now what. Where do we live? What do we do about my sister? And what about all your stuff? Your garage is a thing of nightmares. No, we played it out as long as we could. But it's still fucking hard to accept. That you're not in my life anymore. That you're not my boyfriend. That I can't call you and come over right now. Not that I could anyway. You had the cigar meeting tonight. It was always something.
So you're really gone? It's over? I need to let you go? OK. I'll do it. I know it's hard but not impossible. It just takes time. That was how you got through it, right? See, I wouldn't know because you didn't text me back.
I'll leave you now, but not before I say...
You're dreamy
You're really smart
Your job is fucking hot
Your taste in movies and TV is shit but your music selection is fantastic
I only want you to be happy and fulfilled but I don't think I could handle seeing you ever again
Sometimes I felt like you didn’t like me
Your reactive nature scared me sometimes and I often walked on eggshells around you
I appreciate that you finally welcomed me into your family
You work hard, not smart. It's infuriating because you could literally be as successful as some of those guys you admire
I loved holding your hand
I think your childhood really damaged you and by not addressing that pain and trauma, you are unable to be emotionally present
You have great hair
I love how connected you are to your Mexican culture
I relapsed last year because I didn't know how to not be your girlfriend and felt lost. It was for 2 months at my dad's house and only on Saturday nights...our night. I would text you sometimes. I had fun but it needed to stop.
I love how you treated Abby
I miss your smell
I regret that we never had break-up sex and would still do it if you were game.
I considered us an AA power couple
I hate that I can't call you right now
And on and on and on and on...
That’s it. It’s time to let you go. Goodbye my sweet Baboo. I hope they make good banana bread on your side of the break-up. oxox