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Dear J

I am used to hanging out with ppl who don’t behave recklessly (like would leave if a security guard came), care if i’m uncomfortable (that usually includes you), include me in conversation, and…

 

“Well, it wasn’t about you.”

 

Well, why not? You invited me, right? You wanted me there. I’m trying to imagine a scenario where I invite you and my brother shows up, and let’s say, Keily is there, too, and I spend 90% of my energy on her. I can’t imagine. And if she was uncomfortable, or even if I felt angry, and needed these people, missed these people (i’ve been long distance too, and sick for more than 6 weeks at a time honey, with no one, no one). Trying to imagine what it would take for me to sit there not caring that she was off in a corner miserable. Or worse, to get mad at her for feelings her feelings.

 

It would take extreme selfishness, which is not like you. Which makes me think, as hurt as I was, that you must be going through a lot more than I realized.

 

Or, that you just flipped an “I hate Hope switch” or an “i’ve hated her and this is the breaking point.”

 

Maybe a few years ago, for the second one.

 

But I’ve been a model freakin’ friend this time. The last 2 months, passive aggressive. OK. I can see that. You’re “dating” someone awful, and I can’t say anything. I can’t. You say I can but I can’t. I did a little, and you get defensive, which is the natural reaction.

 

But the last time I really just told you the truth, you shut me out, said you get enough of that from your mom, yourself, and you don’t need anymore of that “judgement” a.k.a. outside good sense and opinion from other people, but then said no tell me, it’s you. Mixed message. Meh. I just decided, I told her once how I feel. She knows. I don’t have to say it again. But my opinions aren’t going to disappear. So I’m going to listen. If my feelings show through my listening, and you want to call that P.A., okay. I don’t think that’s fair, but okay. What would you have me do? you’re making bad male choices. You’ve flat out interrupted me bitching about John twice to say that I’m lucky to have someone. I have someone great part because of luck, I met the right guy, but because before him, when I dated all the losers, I didn’t stay with them for companionship more than a few weeks at a time. When I realized they were no good, I moved on. And when you don’t, and you say non non-boyfriend who takes your car, money, time, sanity, etc, is making you a “one-man woman” well, that’s cutting you off from other opportunities. Not just hooking up with couples and rando-s, but like leaving yourself open to love. I can’t tell you how many times I told you to get therapy. “Yeah, I know.” You knew, you didnt go. LIke, what else could I say?

 

I’ve worked so hard on myself, and I’m moving forward, and I see you stuck, and then I feel like you block me from helping you in ways, and then I get punished for not saying things that you would then punish me for.

 

I’ve grown up.

 

You’re now the one doing drugs and drinking, and not knowing where your home is. It sucks. It’s a shitty place to be.

 

You’re now the one smoking pot in a parking lot (although I was always paranoid and wanted to smoke inside).

 

I’ve found my love person, my place in life. I’m getting healthier.

 

I quit being self-destructive.

 

Like, does this frustrate you? Do these new dynamics throw you off? Help me out here.

 

 

If all you got is that I’m a sensitive person (makes me me) and that I had a freakout one night (coulda banked that against 2 1/2 years of bestfriendship instead of taking out whatever’s going on in your life out on me.) That I’m selfish (I kinda have to be. Wish I wasn’t. Being sick sucks. Kinda an excuse, kinda not. Again, there are things and things I would do differently but I don’t have a time machine. I did think, thought, that even after that night, I had a best friend who would forgive me for ruining her night. Because I’d earned a screw up. And that she’d calm down, realize she was wrong too. But even if you didn’t, like seriously? “Hope was there for me, for the last 2 1/2 years, through thick and thin. Every time we had a bump in the road, we brought it up. We weren’t passive aggressive like before it was great. But ONE NIGHT, we hung out, she said she was feeling certain ways, I didn’t believe her and assumed she was out to ruin my one night with my good friend and brother, and so I’m cutting her off. I’m gonna ignore her, then tell her that she IS in fact passive aggressive and say some other mean things, and then when she fights dirty back, then I’ll have my proof that it’s not just one night, that she is in fact the bad person I need her to be. Then I’ll announce the end of our friendship on a Facebook post after unfriending her, so she can see it, or hear about it through friends. I won’t call her or text her, because I’ve rewritten not just 2+ years of history but 2 decades, and everything I’ve said about her being my person and my best friend and the person who gets me and picks me up is now suddenly untrue because of this one night, and maybe these last two months of me being able to tell that she was biting her tongue, and maybe this even longer resentment that I had that she has a lot to be greatful for and doesn’t appreciate it. Yep. That’s what I’m gonna do. This is the honor I’m going to pay to this person who I have called crying in the middle of the night. I”m going to handle it this way.

 

But you know what? I didn’t handle shit well that night, so who the fuck am I to judge?

 

I’ve already forgiven you.

 

I don’t give a fuck what you said to my mom. I mean, it sucks man. Part of me thinks you doing the thing I did with Mike, where I was hurt so deeply that I had to spew as much hatred so we couldn’t come back from it because I just knew my heart couldn’t take another breakup. Maybe subconsiously? Or maybe just a knee-jerk reaction to her telling your dad that you were “on the marijuana.” I know it’s not funny. Okay, it’s a little funny. “on the marijuana. Really mom? Not pot? Not even “The pot”? I told her, “Jen already told her parents she smokes,” so I don’t know why you got mad about that, if you did. Anyway, I know she said that, and “My daughter is smarter than yours” (cuz that’s totally what we’re fighting about, right?), and that you’re dad said “You raise your daughter your way, I’ll raise mine my way with our customs” I’m butchering the paraphrasing on the last one, but that’s all I remember and my mom is terrible about remembering conversations. I will admit that while I did not in any way ask my mom to call you for me, when I told her the story, and she got upset (she said her “mommy spidy senses were tingling”), I didn’t discourage her from calling you enough. I was like, “I mean, if it will make you feel better, mom.” At the time, I was still trying not to contact you at all. But I was boiling over with my side of the story, maybe I thought… bah. I really do handle conflict well. Ask my friends out here. There are shocked by the “fighting dirty” things I said to you, and by what I posted on your page. But they are chalking it up to, I’ve dealt with stranger drama (like the guy at the bar, get your hands out of my face, security? ok bye bye), acquantaince drama, and even good friend drama, like giving chris space. But with you, so out of left field. But it’s not an excuse, just a sign that I’m not done growing or learning how to be prepared. Like limbo, you have to keep clearing lower and lower bars to duck the low blows? Wow, great analogy right?

 

And then in the days that followed there was like realated drama and unrelated drama and I hadnled it so poorly and it was clearly like oooookay I’ve been doing great, especially the last like 6-8 months, but this is a sign, I need some more wolves in my mentor pack, to brush shit off, rise above, love instead of hate. So, I’m working on it. DOn’t get me wrong, some people truly need to be told to fuck the fuck off.

 

But usually, there’s no need.

 

BTW, I don’t think you’re toxic. After two days of anger and hurt, I got some good insight, and just started to get really fucking worried about you. Like, what the fuck is going on with this girl. Is there more than what I know?

 

Working all the time?

 

Decency torn to shreds by men, i.e. Don, even if not right now (or maybe she knows)

 

Is torn between 2 worlds

 

The feet thing (I worry too much, I know)

 

Pressure from parents

 

Hasn’t had days off, needed vacation (now blames me for ruining at least one day, although if you read our texts, I was trying so hard to NOT be passive aggressive. In the past I woulda been like, “Oh, you double booked. Wow, guess, you don’t have time for me. Whatever.” And then stewed and festered.” THat’s true p.a. So you know, we be changing.”

 

So. What else, that I might not know.

 

Jealousy?

 

P.A. Have you been waiting for me to get you out of certain situations? Pick one. BTW, you did say “You’ve been p.a. lately” on the phone, but it was when i was talking about john and i thought you meant about him, so whew over my head.

 

Some genuine hostility toward me for shit I don’t know. This i’d really like to know. Like, what’s the beef, yo. And does it really, like plus one night, cancel out the good? I got shit that bugs me. I wish you’d take my advice. I wish you’d stay on the phone instead of saying “Yeah i gotta go” everytime you don’t like what i gotta say.

 

 

 

 

Long distance==> short distance is hard, don’t compare me to other friends, they don’t talk to you as much

 

 

 

Look, our friendship as we knew it is caput. So…… here’s the deal. I actually don’t know the deal. I just know that I love you, this whole thing seems monumental and silly all in one. I can’t accept that you think I’m evil. I just can’t. Really. Good things take work, I wanna say. But the last 2+ years, not so much work. We’ve been good. I’ve grown up.

 

I got it.

 

You say you need to find your place in the world before you fall in love with your soulmate.

 

Like Indian husband.

 

Maybe that applies to me.

 

Just sayin’, like I feel like if you won’t take my advice, and you get angry when I just listen, what help can i be to you?

 

Which absolutely fucking sucks because you are such a big chunk of my support system! Argh!

 

But if you need to get yourself together before you can take responsibility, then that’s what you gotta do, girl. And I wish you the best of luck. And I will unburn all of your bridges, because minus tuesday night and how you’ve dealt with the fallout (cuz I’m a saint!), you are amazing, giving, loyal, funny, attractive, amazing, talented, smart.

 

And quite honestly, better than this.

 

So when you’re ready to talk, you know how to reach me. I’m gonna be posting on this site–> if you’d like to read it, you can. You can even post, and no one has to know.

 

I just have no anger for you. Maybe if i sit and stew over that night for too long, but I’m trying not too, and you know, it’ll fade in a few days, for sure in a few weeks.

 

Just whatever’s going on with you, depression, whatever, get help. Not because you’re broken. But because you desere to be happy and loved.

 

Love, Hope

 

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Posted by on June 7, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

The letters we can’t send.

Published on: Apr 1, 2013 @ 21:51

Dear Brat,

I don’t want to come to you in a year, so the only way I know how to not do that is to make sure I’ve said everything, but this won’t be nasty. Whether you read this or not, I need to say it.

Then again, this “break up” is different. It’s not you running away from my self-destructiveness, or me running away from your overemotionalness. But also, this has nothing to do with you being a forgiving person. There is nothing to forgive. If something bothers you, if someone says or touches you in a way you don’t like, you fucking say something right then. You’re not 4 years old. You speak up, or else it didn’t really bother you until you changed your mind when you felt guilty about it the next morning.

I was sad, but now I’m angry. If there’s a question about something that happened, how about you trust my judgement over your faulty and ever-changing drunken memory? How about you not assume your close friend’s fiance is a creep? How about you give me the benefit of the doubt, which I’ve done nothing but earn, and earn, and earn, and redeem myself for everything in the past. I think Furniture is a piece of furniture, who does nothing but take up space with no personality, and has no right to be mad at me OR the Boyfriend, but I also trust that you see something in him, so I didn’t hate him, nor would I not invite him or you by proxy to my wedding, because I would give you the benefit of the doubt.

Also, I won’t be contacting Furniture about your latest indescetions, like falling for Mo and trying to go on a date with him, and crying when he didn’t have feelings for you. (Hmm, maybe that’s why I wasn’t shouting your love for Furniture from the rooftops, because you were having doubts and feelings for other men. So yeah, I’m not sorry for that anymore.)

It’s been really hard to be your friend since I realized certain things about you and how you act toward men, crying out for sexual attention and then crying rape when you actually get it. But I tried to accept you as you are. But we stopped being friends the day you decided to tell your twisted one-sided version of things to Furniture.

As for me “having feelings toward you,” that was the alochol talking, but I did later say I find you attractive, which is true, or at least was true when you weighed a little bit less. But if I did still find you attractive, so what? Are you that homophobic?

But if you wanna sick Semira and her loose skin on me, go ahead, I’ve been wanting to change my number anyway. And yeah, keep Semira in your life, you know the person who has legitimately harmed you, another person Furniture supposedly hates, and yet I’m sure she’s going to the wedding that has a misprint on the invitation… I digress). So yeah, that totally makes sense. Keep an evil person in your life over a good friend who even by your version, made some honest mistakes, apologized profusely, and took a whole bunch of shit for something that didn’t even happen. Gotcha. Oh right. She’s family. Because your family is soooo good to you. I forget.

Btw don’t say to your bridal shower guests WHO ARE STILL THERE, that we made it awkwardly silent. The party is what you and your host make it. It is not up to your GUESTS to run your party, so that’s not only on you but fucking rude to tell the 2/3 of the guests that are still there how relieved you are to have it over. Wow. Classy.

I’m gonna find better friends. And I have a man who loves me. And maybe we had to work for our passion, but at least we found it. If you grow and change and want to come to me with an apology in a couple years, I’ll accept it. But I’m not coming to you anymore. You have had as many falling outs with friends as I’ve had, if not more, so I’m not putting this on me anymore, at all. I’m letting it go, I’m letting you go, and I don’t even know if I wish the best for you anymore, because you certainly haven’t treated me very well through this whole thing. You’d be the one trying to prove yourself, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. So again, goodbye, and hey, at least you don’t have an unwanted tattoo from this friendship.

P.S.

The Boyfriend and I couldn’t figure out why you had such a distorted view of what happened. Then I explained to him how you are with men, and how you were during our last round of friendship, when you’d take your wedding ring off and go to coffee society, asking many of your male friends like Mark if they’d sleep with you, and then crying when they said no. We realized that you are that girl, the girl who desperately seeks attention, validation, and sexual desire from men because you admittedly don’t get it from Furniture, and because of your childhood trauma. The most recent example is Mo, but he didn’t give you that attention.

The Boyfriend, on the other hand, wasn’t repulsed by you. When YOU flirted with HIM (punching him on the arm, talking about sex, making dirty jokes, etc.–these are the things I was trying not to say during our text fight, until I just read your jail comment. Real classy), the Boyfriend returned the sentiment and flirted right back. But you’re not used to that. Your that girl, the girl that freaks out when you actually receive that attention, which you’re not used to, so you freak out and cry rape (Oh, and ruin a great friendship over one night you barely remember, and remember differently every time you tell the story. Gotcha).

Maybe through therapy, you’ll realize this about yourself. Maybe you won’t. Toodles.

 

How many times do I have to say
To get away-get gone
Flip your shit past another lasses
Humble dwelling
You got your game, made your shot, and you got away
With a lot, but I’m not turned-on
So put away that meat you’re selling
’cause I do know what’s good for me-
And I’ve done what I could for you
But you’re not benefiting, and yet I’m sitting
Singing again, sing, sing again
How can I deal with this, if she won’t get with this
M’I gonna sheal from this; she won’t admit to it
Nothing to figure out; I gotta get him out
It’s time the truth was out that she don’t give a
Shit about me
How many times can it escalate
Till it elevates to a place I can’t breathe?
And I must decide, if you must deride
That I’m much obliged to up and go
I’ll idealize, then realize that it’s no
Sacrifice, because the price is paid, and
There’s nothing left to grieve
Fuckin go-
’cause I’ve done what I could for you, and I do know what’s
Good for me and I’m not benefiting, instead
I’m sitting singing again, singing again, singing again,
Sing, sing, sing again
How can I deal with this, if she won’t get with this
M’I gonna sheal from this; she won’t admit to it
Nothing to figure out; I gotta get him out
It’s time the truth was out that she don’t give a
Shit about me

“Get Gone,” Fiona Apple

 

 
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Posted by on April 1, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

…and if you had told me, I wouldn’t have listened…

Times like this, I think of how I got myself into this mess. My hands burning, but this uncontrollable urge to get all of this emotional shit out of me like I’ve been constipated years or like I’ll die if I don’t get it all out of me.

But I shouldn’t, because this is how I got here, or I should use the stupid voice typing thing, but it’s too slow and I type too fucking fast and my fingers are going numb.

And therein lies this vicious cycle. The cure is the cause. I’m depressed because I’m in pain; I write to deal with my depression, but it causes more pain.

He never really got me. I know this. And to become the version of me that he’d accept isn’t the me I want to me, or at least, not all of it, or not close enough. But when I’m sad, it feels like enough to try to be or pretend to be that person, try it again, have somewhere to place all this love I have for him somewhere.

Cuz it doesn’t go away. The huge chunk of me that loves him, the part of me that shut down when I heard he was being medivaced (sp?) to the hospital to the point where I froze compeletely and had to call my mom to tell me to pack clothes and drive to the hospital, and that’s not me, I’m calm under pressure. Or the person who sucked up her pain to sit by his bed 24/7 and yet he thought it was a cake walk for me, he didn’t think he needed me or that I took better care of him, even when I’d scrape myself out of the hospital chair to go home and get some sleep to have some semblance of sanity, leaving him in the care of his mom, only to return to realize she left early and find him tangled in his IV thingy trying to get to the bathroom, writhed over in pain because no one was there to make sure they gave him his pain meds.

Which leads me to the version of HIM that i’d like him to be.

Cuz at the bottom of this sadness well, I know we don’t work, that this is grief, yadda yadda yadda. But where do I put all this? I’m realizing that he wasn’t merely an important part of my life, he helped shape the person I am, in the most important figuring out who the fuck I am years of my life. He knew me before I knew I had spinal stenosis, HE KNEW ME WHEN I WAS STILL PAYING MY BILLS, WHEN I STILL HAD FRIENDS.

Friends. God, friends. If I could I’d write about friends but cause, cure, dizzy, blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

 
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Posted by on March 25, 2011 in Breakups, Depression, Health, Relationships, The Ex

 

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…you took my heart and soul…

I’m stuck in regret land tonight, which is odd considering I spent the day being the happiest I’ve been in weeks. Not giddy like new boy giddy, but happy, like yay I can kinda hear outta my left ear and yay something clicked finally for one of my students and i wasn’t late for work happy. I was even happy that i wasn’t boy-giddy, that I can feel my focus finally finally coming around to the right thing: me. I’ve finally accepted that I can’t smoke pot and it’s been 2 weeks almost since my last drink. I KNOW I need a lot of therapy.

But here’s what I haven’t accepted. I’ve been sick for almost 8 years now, wow, 8. This July will be 8 years. Next year, when I’m 27 and sick for 9 years, I’ll have spent a third of my life disabled.

And I still blame it on myself. And I’m still angry as fucking hell that this happened to me and stole my dreams.

And on the 30th, I’ll have been single from The Ex, the love of my stupid pathetic life, for 6 months. And, at least since the reality has been hitting home for the last, I don’t know, month, I think about him every goddamn day. I hear him in my voice, in the things I say, my mannerisms. And every date I go on is a comparison to him, good or bad, but mostly bad.

And so I’m in regret land tonight, wishing I had my own Dr. Tom to send me back to, oh, I don’t know, try again to keep someone that didn’t want to be kept. Or hell, try to NOT keep him, maybe that would have worked, but only from the start. Or go back and un-abort the baby that I can’t guarantee would have kept us together as girlfriend/boyfriend, but would have tied us together for life at least financially or whatever the fuck comes along with being parents. Parents. I could have been a mom. So weird to say. I wanna go back to so many different points in my life and just change this fuckhole of a mess that I’m barely existing in. What hasn’t been taken from me, I’ve torn down like the sad self-destructive piece of self-loathing shit that I am.

And then people meet me and say I’m awesome or that I’m pretty or that I’m inteligent or that I’m unique… and I just think, what a fucking waste.

What a fucking joke.

 
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Posted by on March 25, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

…and I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…

Depression pours into and out of me, taking on so many different forms, forms I’ve had to open my eyes to in order to realize they’re there, that’s why I’m doing these things. Take the medication, give it three months–okay, but that’s a really long time. I can remember happy times, but I can’t remember anytime where deep down, under the surface, I was happy. And all these dates and this quest for love or the closest thing is just leading me back to where I started, which is that I’m still madly in love with my ex. And that I shouldn’t be. Because he’s not my intellectual equal, and because he didn’t understand me, and because he couldn’t communicate his needs to me, and because he didn’t put work into the relationship. But it’s only been 6 months, and every guy I meet just pales in comparison. I need to get to the point where I’m not comparing. And I wanna say that I will get to a good place with myself before I continue looking for someone again, but the idea of me, happy, normal, complete, or even a work in progress is so fucking far off from what is tangible. Everything is falling down around me. Whoops, there goes the love of your life. Whoops, there goes your house, there goes your money, there goes hope of money, there goes your best friend, there goes another, there goes everything you tried to hold onto, and here’s a lot of debt and grief and pain and pain and pain that you can’t get a grip on. Just get a fucking grip.

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2011 in Breakups, Depression, Health, The Ex

 

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Wow, Feb. 19th. So it’s been a while. I think I forgot why I started blogging. My life is a cluster fuck of shit that I can’t seem to get over, past, or through, and I need as many outlets as I possibly can have.

So this is my daily routine. I wake up, see how long I can go before taking pain killers. This time is getting shorter and shorter to the point where’s it’s basically automatic. I look at the clock and decide how many hours I have before work or before 5 p.m. that I can procrastinate by watching TV and drowning out all my problems.

Except that it only works half of the time. Or, I’ll take the leap and watch something inspirational like Heavy or Intervention or Dr. Oz or Oprah (hey, these are inspirational compared to the mind-numbing shit I feed into my brain). That’s what I did this morning, I watched Heavy. It made me turn off the TV and it’s only 11 am!

To be continued…

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

“Love is not a victory march… it’s a cold and it’s a broken halleluyah…”

So he sent me a text this morning asking for my email. I gave him my sorta fake one, the one I use for online dating, so I’m sure he was confused when I replied with a different name. LOL anyway so here it is. I flipped it around so you don’t have to read it from the bottom up. I’m the last email, so of course, I’m waiting for a response. Does it make me a doormat if I choose to forgive him, or am I already a doormat for even reading his emails, let alone… well, just read. I just can’t shake the feeling like this guy is supposed to be in my life, for some reason, even if it’s only temporary. But god, did I really have to end it with “i miss your voice?” Idk what’s gonna happen with this guy, but I’m thisclose to deleting my online dating accounts and just start getting out more, networking etc. Or use those sites to make new friends, and just be a more social person. My twice ex best friend once said (and I’m sure she didn’t make this up herself):

”If you do what you always do, you’ll get what you’ve always got.”

Anyway, here it is. P.S. Liar Boy is now… Desk Boy. Idk, that’s just what my friend called him… cuz he works at a desk… and I met him at work. So hopefully that’s the last renaming of the guy that is breaking my heart…:


From: Desk Boy
Sent: Fri, February 18, 2011 1:23:37 PM
Subject: [No Subject]

Dearest Heather,

I have written and re-written this several times over the last few days. I’ve wanted to make sure that I choose my words carefully and that I properly express what I want. First off, I want to apologize to you for not getting back to you sooner. It was one of those things where I just needed some time and one day became two, and two days became three and son on. I know that leaving somebody in the lurches is one of the worst things that you can do to a person. I am so terribly sorry and completely understand if you never speak to me again for everything that I’ve put you through.

The fact of the matter is that I wanted to be upfront with you about my difficult living situation but at the same time not scare you off. When I finally told you, your reaction was less than pleasant, but completely understandable. While talking to you on the phone that morning I realized that I needed to have some time to think things over. I wanted to figure out exactly what I wanted with you, and what I needed in my life. After a day of serious thinking- I still had no idea. My timing couldn’t have been worse as it was now valentines day. I wanted to call you on several occasions (even though I still hadn’t figured it out) just to hear your voice. Believe me, the last few days have been no picnic for me either. I’ve missed you something awful. Every little thing has reminded me of you. Last night I saw that the show “Firefly” is coming to the science channel. My fist instinct was to grab my phone to call you and tell you. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile and the way that you would say “hi” to me. That said, I didn’t think that it would be fair of me to call you or contact you if I had nothing to say. Also, I in no way intended to “dupe” you. I would never intentionally do that to any girl. ESPECIALLY not you.

I’ve figured out a lot about myself over the last couple of years. Some things I think are awesome. But there are some things about myself that I don’t like. Things that I’m working to change. Heather, there are things about me that you have no idea about. Things that I’ve done, things that I’ve been through, and things that I’ve seen that I’m not proud of. There are things about me that you should have known that before ever getting involved. It was unfair of me to advance things as quickly as I did without telling you these things first. I guess that what I’m trying to say is that I need to be SINGLE. Completely single for now. How can I be good for anybody else if I still have a ton of issues that I need to work out? I’ve decided to get back into therapy to hopefully deal with some of this.

Ok, now I’m starting to shake and tear up thinking about what I’m writing next. Heather, you are without a doubt the single most amazing female I’ve known in years. Your laugh makes me melt and your smile always made the little hairs on my arms stand up. I will NEVER be able to go back to the bar where we had our first and only date ever again. I’ve missed leaving you voicemails hoping to make your day. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to drive through my home town ever again with out thinking of you. Aside from expired tags and what i’m assuming is a shitty credit score, you’re perfect. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I still want you in my life. I obviously can’t have you the way that I once did. Until I figure out all of my bullshit I think that I’d make a terrible boyfriend. Please Heather, I’m begging you to please remain in my life as a friend until I sort everything out. If you can’t, I’ll completely understand.

If you decide to cut me off completely, let me say this: Please be careful out there Heather. You are so wonderful and giving that I’m afraid that you’ll be taken advantage of. And please don’t be so free sexually. It scares me to think that somebody you don’t know could do you real harm if you’re not more careful. (as I typed that last sentence it dawned on me that I deserve the ass kicking of the century for what I’ve put you though.)

Let me know. But no pressure. You know how to get in touch with me… and I hope you will.

Love,

Desk Boy


*Timeout* What the fuck does he mean by being so free sexually. I’ve slept with… 3 guys (that I’m counting) since the breakup, The Rebound, The 1-monther-Army-Boy, and Selfish-1-Night-Stand-Guy. Since Desk Boy, I’ve gotten drunk twice, aiming to go out and fuck one of like 9 guys that would have me, but mainly 1 guy that I’m most attracted to. But I haven’t. I get drunk, I get sad, and I go to sleep, thinking about him. The point is, I’m not “free” sexually, I’m free “sticking my heart out to get stomped on”-wise. Yeah. Fucker. Okay back to the emails. Here’s my response:


Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2011
Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Desk Boy,

Honestly, I feel like someone grabbed handfuls out of three different puzzle boxes and told me to put the picture together. There was this amazing guy I met and talked to everyday, a guy who made me feel special, a guy who I kept going pinching myself to believe there was such a strong connection so fast. And yeah, I didn’t sleep with you, and at times I was hesitant because there were some red flags and gut feelings that at the time I thought was just leftover baggage. But over the last few days I realized what your email confirms… that something was off. But it wasn’t until you took your week of space that I realized just how hard and fast I’d fallen. I’ve been walking around like, “Really? Who the hell has to nurse a broken heart after a week and a half?” I don’t do that, I’m not that person, and yet here I’ve been moping around like I was just left at the altar or something. So yeah, you hurt me, you really really really hurt me, and I can’t give you a pass on that because that’s what I’ve done in the past and I don’t want to be that person anymore. It’s something that I’m working on (yay, therapy!).

On the other hand, I have failed miserably to try to chalk you up to some douche bag. From the outside, here’s this guy who seems amazing and says all the right things without being rehearsed and we have so much in common and… now he’s bailing. Why? Because in my attempt to be like, “Hey, haha, I know what your dorky work picture looks like,” I freaked him out into telling me some baggage he wasn’t ready to tell. Okay. Breakups aren’t cut and dry, people aren’t black and white. I mean, obviously, if you feel like that holds you back from being someone’s boyfriend, then yeah, work it out. But that’s not why I freaked out. I freaked out because the way and the timing, oh my god, just so, so bad. It came off as, “Well, shit, I have a girlfriend or an ex that I’m still fucking or at the very least still living with, and I really wanted to date this girl Heather, but oh no she knows someone I work with so I gotta come up with the best possible cover story… oh no… she’s not buying it… let me take a few days to come up with something better. Okay, she’s in a hurry. I’ll ask for a day… oh no I can’t figure out a cover story and crap she’s texting me… fuck I’ll just avoid this and run away and make this girl hurt like crazy.”

If that sounds harsh, it is. And you deserve it. Cuz anyone else in my shoes would have just hung up and never looked back or read your email. But I’m not anyone else.

For some fucking reason, nomatter how much people hurt me, I’m unable to become jaded. I become hesitant, at best, but I’m empathetic and forgiving to a fault, instead of cold and shut off (which, by all means, I have the right to be if you knew what I’ve been through). But I’d rather be too open than too closed off, because I don’t want to shut myself off to love or friends or anything good. The downside is that it leaves room for me to get hurt, and it makes me the kind of person to read your email instead of running for the hills. And it leads me to say this:

This morning I was thinking, if I could go back to that last phone conversation we had, instead of going silent and then bombarding him with texts, what do I wish I had said? And this is honestly what hindsight would have led me to say: “You obviously have some lose ends to tie up, and I deserve someone who’s ready—not perfect, but ready—and I think we should be friends until you figure out all your shit.”

So that’s kinda where I’m at. I’m pissed and I’m hurt, but for some fucking reason I’m giving you one more benefit of the doubt, even if it’s for you to try (yeah, TRY, you have to make it up to me and you gotta fuckin eat shit and have sushi delivered to my every day or and ooh a vibrator and umm a pony and “I’m sorry for being a douchey douchey douche bag” cards…) to win me back AS A FRIEND, because I don’t trust you, and I can’t date someone I don’t trust. But I’m giving you the chance to win the trust back, so don’t be a retard and screw it up because as much as you sorta crapped all over my self-esteem, I still think I’m the kind of person you don’t let out of your life if you know what’s good for you. Cuz, if you’re lucky AND HONEST (which doesn’t mean you can’t say “I’m not ready to talk about that, it just means you don’t lie), I could be that friend/person that helps you turn your life around.

So where do we go from here (besides the sushi delivery and all that)?

~ Heather


From: Desk Boy
Sent: Fri, February 18, 2011 5:48:53 PM
Subject: RE: [No Subject]

I’m not going to fault you for the lack of trust. That said, i never lied to you. I can still see why you would feel jaded. As to what to do now, i have no idea. I really really really like you Heather. And yes, falling for you as hard as i have freaked me out a little. But as to where to go from here… I have no idea. In a perfect world I would like to be friends. Close friends. really get to know each other on a level that i think we both deserve. I want to earn your trust back. Once we have that we’ll see. I still have a few personal issues to work out before i can even think about anything romantic. Your thoughts?

God i miss you.


Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2011
Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Desk Boy,

The only thing I considered a lie was not the “I rent a room from a family” but the “guests are kinda a no-no” part cuz’ of the kids… You said last weekend that you lived with your ex’s family, but you didn’t say where she lives… so that kinda spent my mind spinning as far as things like, well, gee, that’s why he wanted no hickies. And then there were other things that just didn’t add up… Anyway… I don’t wanna keep beating you up about the same thing. When you’re ready to open up, you will.

As for where to go from here, I know what I don’t want. Firstly, I’m tired of texting, for a million reasons. Second, I can’t forsee an in-person meet up not ending badly. And by badly I mean, you know, the attraction’s still there… It’s kinda like sticking an alcoholic in a bar, even if you didn’t drink or only had a beer, you’d feel guilty enough to run to your sponsor and not put yourself in that situation ever again (thus ruining the chance at a friendship or relationship of any kind), or you’d fall completely back off the wagon, and after a certain amount of time end up right where you started (thus ruining the chance at a friendship or relationship of any kind).

So I guess that leaves email and talking on the phone. I like the idea of building a foundation, and it’s gonna take time since you’re a complicated man and I sure as hell am a complicated woman.

And I miss you, too. Especially your voice.

~Heather

 
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Posted by on February 19, 2011 in Breakups, Dating, Desk Boy

 

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