So… I’ve had a rather interesting week.
Casey tried to connect with me on LinkedIn on Wednesday.
Casey as in THE Casey. The one who I met on my 23rd birthday and fell hopelessly in love with. The one I had a crazy long distance relationship with. The one I loved with every ounce of my being.
The one that thought deleting me from social media and not answering my texts but then sending me a few sentences in an email on “why he did what he did” a few months later was an acceptable way to break up with me.
The one that broke up with me for no apparent reason.
The one that made me want to set myself on fire and watch my skin turn to ash as a way to relieve the pain I was feeling.
The one that broke me.
The one who wanted to get back together a few months later because they realized they made a horrible mistake.
The one I forgave.
The one that scared me.
The one I trusted.
The one my soul hungered for.
The one I was addicted to.
The one I swore was a gift from God to share my forever with.
The one who cheated.
The one who got engaged.
The one who got married.
The one with no apologies.
The one that suffocated me.
The one I would have gladly died for.
The one that made a mistake.
The one that got away.
The one that ruined my life.
The one that’s still married.
The one that just won’t go away.
Yes, that Casey.
My first instinct was to almost laugh at it. I couldn’t believe how pathetic the whole thing was. The ex from hell whom I refuse to talk to trying to add me on LinkedIn because he probably thinks that’s his best chance at staying connected with me. It’s barely a step above MySpace.
I let it sit in my inbox for a couple of days. I wanted him to know how it felt to wait. How it feels to not know. How it feels to try your hardest to reach someone who couldn’t care less about you.
I debated on whether or not I should accept it. I couldn’t bare the idea of going down this path and ending up crushed again. But a part of me wanted to be able to flaunt and dangle my successful career in front of his face to show him just to show him all that I can and did do without him; to show him just how much I really don’t need him.
The last time I talked to him was in October after ignoring a series of Facebook messages from him (we are not Friends on Facebook; he sent messages to my Facebook page). He told me he was miserable and that his wife didn’t appreciate him (there’s a feeling he’s taught me quite a lot about…). He called me the one that got away and said he had no one to blame but himself (no…You don’t say?). After I ignored 5 or more he finally made the mistake of saying, “I wish you would talk to me. I miss you.”
But I didn’t want to hear it.
In the past I may have been different. More trusting. More forgiving. More understanding. Excited to hear from him. Excited at the possibility of getting back together.
In the past I would’ve had hope.
Because I loved you.
I can forgive many things but I can’t forgive you for marrying her. Especially not when you’re still married.
I told Casey off when I received that message in October. It was like every wound on my heart had been reopened and this time instead of having a heart of love, I had a heart of pain ready to attack before it even stood the change of taking on any additional pain.
This is what I said with his response at the bottom:
I thought that settled it. I never imagined this would still be going on now, another 2 months after sending that message and just a few days after he “celebrated” his 2 year wedding anniversary with his wife. Actually, thinking of it that way makes me sick. For someone that claims so much to be a “disciple of Jesus” you sure haven’t mastered the whole “Love thy wife” part…
I accepted Casey’s LinkedIn request a few days after he sent it. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s a part of me that wanted to show him just how much I didn’t need him. Maybe I had hope still for him for some reason. Maybe I wanted something to happen. I don’t know.
But when Casey followed me on Twitter the day after, I know how I felt: scared.
Scared that this was all going to start over again. Scared that a marriage was ending and I’d be to blame. Scared that I was going to ruin the life I’ve gotten comfortable living – alone. Scared that this time would somehow be the worst than the last two times.
I thought about everything very deeply. For a few days, I couldn’t sleep. On the one hand, it was the same old, same old and I’d be a fool to go back to it. On the other hand, what if this was the one time things were going to be different and I was giving up on the one I was meant to be with?
I thought about it over and over and over and talked with some friends. And this is what I learned:
He didn’t love me.
He didn’t love me before we started dating, after we started dating, after we met, before we met, when we met, or now.
I loved him more than anything.
But he didn’t love me, nor will he ever.
No matter what you do for someone, regardless of how much you love them, you can’t make them love you. It doesn’t work like that.
And it’s not worth my time or energy any more and things aren’t how they were when I was 22. One of us is married. The other one is in a deeply committed relationship with work and school and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone stand in the way of reaching my goals.
When I was 22 I had the whole world in front of me. I worked as a crummy cashier at the local Walmart begging for an escape. I thought you were that escape. There was nothing in the world more thrilling and exciting than being a 22 year old new college grad with a 32 year old long distance boyfriend. When I graduated I was so excited about the possibilities and what the future held not just for me, but for you, too; for us. I thought we’d take over the world – travel together, open a business, be our own boss. Be entrepreneurs and both business and life partners.
But it’s not what you wanted, obviously.
You were selfish back then.
Now, it’s my turn to be selfish.
I want to earn my MA.
I want to work 2 or more jobs at a time.
I want to dedicate more time to my church.
I want to study hard and harder and earn a Ph.D..
I want to teach.
i want to write and publish a book.
I want to move to Philly.
I want to move to Cincinatti.
I want to big time editor for some fancy NYC magazine.
I want to move to California.
I want to work 80 hours a week because I can.
I don’t want anyone to tell me who to be or what to do.
I don’t want to waste my time on you (I’ve wasted too much time already).
I want to be selfish like you.
I feel no guilt.
I feel no shame.
No sympathy for you.
We’re not meant to be together.
You’re not my lover.
You’re not my friend.
You are most certainly not “the one”.
And you don’t love me.
Because you don’t leave the people you love.
You don’t destroy the people you love.
And it took me awhile,
But I don’t love you like I did yesterday.
And I’m tired.
And I’m sick.
And all the hell you put me through.
And I’m done.
I’m so, so, so, done.
And so, so, so ready to go on being a little selfish and to live this life without you.
And here is what I want from you:
Please. Please. Please.
LEAVE. ME. ALONE.
I have nothing more to say to you that hasn’t already been said.
This has burnt up in flames many times over.
It’s time to leave the the ashes along so the dust can settle
And this can finally, finally, maybe die and be over with.
I hate the writing challenge for day 26. For day 26 it tells me to write the things I’d say to an ex.Where do I even begin? I guess I’ll start from the beginning with “Dear Larry” and take it from there, right? This could take awhile…
It has been approximately 8 and a half months since we broke up. They were right when they said it takes approximately half the length of a relationship to get over a breakup. The pain finally started to ease when we hit that 6 month mark in April. I’m not entirely sure that I’m fully where I need or want to be yet. I think a part of me still loves you, and I sometimes think a part of me always will.
How about you? How are you holding up? I had to unfriend you,and for awhile, block you. I couldn’t stand to see your updates on Facebook. It didn’t matter that you were “leaving me alone”,because I couldn’t leave me alone. I couldn’t stop stalking your page. It killed me when I saw you friended and were interacting with Maria. That girl. Tell me, did you do it out of spite? You knew it would get to me. That’s why you did it, isn’t it? Was this your way of getting back at me? If so, as much as I hate to admit it, it worked.
You’re kind of unbelievable, but at the same time I shouldn’t be surprised. She played a huge role in our downfall, afterall. Do you remember the night of August 8, 2015? I don’t think I will ever in all my life forget it, but I sure wish I could. I was so happy to have you home. We couldn’t decide what we wanted to do, but it didn’t even matter. You were home and I loved you so much. Anything we did made me happy, just to be with you. You were so rarely home. I learned to treasure each and every moment we had.
…I guess you didn’t feel the same way about me.
Sometimes you’d say you missed me, but did you really? Or was it Maria that you were missing?
I knew something was up when you asked me how I felt about you being friends with Maria. When she was back in your life. I give you credit for being honest about her being your ex and telling me that much of the truth. But I don’t think you gave me the FULL truth…I’m not sure I’ll ever know the real truth.
Maybe she sent a friend request. That is fine. I have no problem with that at all. I know you’d beg to differ, but I am not crazy. I have a million Facebook friends, most of whom I never talk to, some of which are exes.
Here’s the thing that is NOT okay: to give your exes more attention than your current girlfriend. To lie to your current girlfriend about our ex girlfriend. To ignore your current girlfriend because you’re too wrapped up in your ex. To feel the need to hide your cell phone because of messages from your ex girlfriend that you don’t wan your current girlfriend to see.
Maybe you didn’t have sex with her. Maybe you didn’t kiss her. Maybe you never touched her. Maybe you haven’t even seen her since you broke up.
…but that doesn’t make you innocent.
If you have to hide you phone from your current girlfriend because of messages from another girl, as far as I’m concerned, when it comes to cheating, you’re already there.
Do you have any idea how much it hurt for me to find all of those messages on your phone on August 8th? The ones about how she’s so beautiful, asking her if she’s single, asking to video chat.
It didn’t hurt.
A part of me died the night of August 8, 2015.
I did what any normal girl would do: I freaked out.
Consider yourself lucky, I didn’t hit you. I should have. I really, really should have.
Breaking up then and there seemed like the obvious answer. I gave my all to you. I was as loyal and committed to you as one could have been, and this was the thanks I got? Really? But I loved you so much.
Remember that night? In your car? We cried together for hours. I never saw a man cry like that before. That wasn’t fake; no man can fake-cry that well. You SOBBED. You were hysterical. How could I not have accepted your apology after that? You made a mistake. But you didn’t mean to hurt me. You loved me. It was a one time thing. It would never happen again. It wouldn’t be easy for me to trust you after that, but I was willing to try. I still had hope and faith in you. I believed we could put this hold thing behind us. Just keep it between us and move on.
Except…it wasn’t between you and me.
It was me, you, Maria, and your family.
Your stupid freaking family.
I often wondered if I was dating you or your family.Sometimes it felt like both. I’m all for being close to your family. You were over my house all the time, you know I was close to my family. You also knew that especially towards the end, they weren’t always too found of you. They didn’t hate you like I know that you think they did…they just believed I deserved better. You didn’t treat me the way I should have been treated.
They were right.
While my family may not have quite approved of you all the time, they still knew that my love life was just that – my love life. It was for me to figure out and for me to make decisions about. They never told me to break up with you (although they definitely didn’t discourage it). They allowed me to make my own decisions.
Larry, you’re 27 years old. When are you going to grow up and be your own man?
It’s not just about you living at home. That’s fine – I mean I still live at home, why would I condemn that? But you let your family control you and your life and your relationships so much. It wasn’t fair for me or for you.
It was like I already stated, I wasn’t just dating you, I dated your family, too.
I constantly had to seek their approval and nothing was ever just between us. If we had an argument or a dispute or anything at all that I said to you, got back to them, too and they made sure to let me know it.
It wasn’t even just your parents. It was your parents, all of your sisters, your freaking grandmom, cousins, aunts, uncles, random people who I guess are somehow related to you.
It was never their business. A relationship should be between two people, not two people and their family.
One of the things that bothered me the most was the fact that Amanda knew about Maria before we even had our little dispute. Remember the barbecue? It was that same week…maybe even the day after the fact? The wounds were still really fresh and still really deep, Larry. I was doing my best not to think about it, to not hold it against you…forgive and forget. Then while we were alone, when we were dropping Amanda and Emma off she said to us, “Larry, are you still talking to your ex? That’s a really bad idea.” And she followed up after she went home with a text about how you better get your crap together or you’re going to lose me…you’re never around for me. You treat me like crap. Say what you will about Amanda. Yeah, maybe she’s made some mistakes and done some things you and the rest of your family don’t agree with…but was she not right?
You never learn though, do you? You were the center of my life. My world revolved around you. My world stopped for you. The only thing I remember about last summer is being in this constant state of waiting — waiting for you to come home from work. Waiting for you to get done with your dad. Waiting for you to show up at my house. Waiting for you to text. Waiting for you to call.
Waiting for you to come home from your 8th family vacation that you totally didn’t have to go on.
Waiting for you to tell the truth.
Waiting for you to love me the way I loved you.
We started to fight a lot. The main thing we fought about was how I needed more from you. I was exhausted from giving you all that I had whereas you never even attempted to measure up.I cried a lot and suffered horrible anxiety by the end of our relationship because I knew things weren’t the same and I was terrified of losing you and I could no longer trust you. I did lose you in the end – but choice – because it was no longer worth staying, as painful as leaving you came to be.
I knew you were a truck driver and couldn’t be home much. It wasn’t easy, but I accepted that.
What I couldn’t accept was how you made things unnecessarily hard on us with these stupid volunteer vacations. Instead of seeing me, you took time off to spend a week with your family on vacation.
One vacation is one thing.
8 is quite another, and no, I’m not even exaggerating.
I went to Disney with you and I had the time of my life. I will never, even regret that despite how things ended with us. It was uncomfortable as anything staying with your sisters and your mom. Your mom is not exactly the nicest, friendliest person in the world – especially not to me. Your little sister is alright…for a 5 year old. It’s too bad she’s now going on 15 or 16. I could go into more details here, and I almost did, but I’ll spare you that. You should be thanking me. Your older sister was nice enough…but it was a little uncomfortable living with someone who covered everything in tissues for a week because of germs…but maybe she had a point. That was he most disgusting freaking room I’ve ever seen. You’re lucky I’m as nice as I am…I could have and really should have made you take me somewhere else to stay…somewhere that isn’t totally disgusting. But I suppose that it was a step up from your actual house, as sad as that sounds. That was pretty freaking bad, too.
But why do you feel the need to go on ALL of these family vacations especially when they are often the same? Did you really need to go to Busch gardens like 3 times that summer? Oh yeah, you did. You had to be with your girlfriend during round 2.
Except I’ve never been to Busch Gardens.
You and your family make it sound like I’m a devil because of what I did to you during the 2nd trip to Busch Gardens.
I’m sorry – but what? What I did to you?
Yes. I cursed you out over a series of 20+ text.
Yes they were ugly.
Yes, I accused you of cheating…and that’s putting it mild.
What did you expect? You wen on vacation with another girl who was in the same age range, single,and you never told me about it.
When I asked if she was there, you took a long time to answer me and you said “Well….”
That tells me everything.
The first time you went to Busch Gardens, you told me everything about your day. Everywhere you went, everything you saw, everything you did. You couldn’t wait to talk to me.
The second time was another story. Because your girlfriend was there with you. Your other girlfriend.
I had to pretty much beg you to send me 1 little text a day. That’s unacceptable.
You got drunk. With her.
You never had a single drink when you were with me. And don’t you dare use the excuse of having to drive. What about Disney? Everyone gets drunk in Epcot. You could’ve had all the drinks you wanted – you had none.
You went in a hot tub. With her. Without your shirt on.
You were always very self conscious of that. I think I saw you shirtless maybe a total of 3 times…1 is more like it. Definitely no more than 3 during the course of our 13 month relationship.
THERE. IS. A. POOL. AT. MY. CONDO.
You could’ve gone swimming with me any time you wanted during the summer, but you refused because you were “too shy”. Too shy to take your shirt off in front of me, but when it comes to your other girlfriend, boy you can’t take your clothes off fast enough, can you?
And what about the tracking app?
I can understand people thinking it’s creepy. In most cases, yes, but when you date a truck driver,the same rules don’t apply.
FYI, dating a truck driver gets freaking terrifying. I heard on the news all the time about major accidents with trucks where the drivers were killed and I always panicked thinking it could be you. The tracking app allowed me to sleep at night knowing you reached your destination safe. But yeah, I did use it when you were on vacation – I enjoyed seeing where you were going especially since it wasn’t like I was going to get a text out of you telling me where you were. You went ghost on me.
You liked the tracking app. You made a game out of it. The where’s Larry? game. Don’t you dare try to tell me otherwise.
Suddenly, minutes after I flipped out on you and accused you of cheating, the tracking app became disabled so I couldn’t keep track of you.
Let me guess…you let her take you to Hooters and you disabled the app so I wouldn’t find out because you know I’d get mad. You admitted she asked you to go…but you claim you said no. Lying was never one of your strongest suits though. I bet you said no. Sure…
This all took place less than a month after the whole Maria incident. And I’m just supposed to believe nothing happened, that you were completely innocent.
How stupid do you think I am?
And yet, I allowed you and your stupid friggen family to place all of the blame on me. I was the psychotic girlfriend with the worst anxiety that really needed to see a doctor like your brother did. God forbid I loved you. God forbid I worried about you. God forbid I feared losing you. You freaking cheated, yet it was all my fault. So I did the only thing I knew how to do: I apologized and begged you not to leave me.
But we were never the same after that. We were falling apart and could no longer be fixed.
And I was getting so sick and tired of fighting the same battles – begging you to make me a priority. Crying in your car and not even being sure why I was crying.
We were changing. I supposed I was seeing your true colors. And they were ugly. You were becoming more and more controlling, manipulative, and unsupportive of me and downright selfish.
In case I haven’t mentioned it yet, it’s really hard work to date a truck driver. But I did everything I could to make it work – to try to be understanding, supportive, and submissive like a good proverbs 31 woman.
But a proverbs 31 woman needs a proverbs 31 man. I didn’t have one. You didn’t take care of me. You took care of you.But I suppose I can’t blame you too much…do you even know what it is to be a Proverbs 31 man? Do you even know the significance of Proverbs 31? Probably not. I mean, you were only a pentecostal afterall.
Larry, do you know what a pentecostal christian is? It’s not exactly what I consider a “real” christian to be. When is the last time you went to church other than the Baptist church with me and those churches we saw christian concerts at?
Admit it…you’re only a pentecostal because your dad is.
Now that we aren’t together,I can finally say something I’ve been holding back for the longest time:
Your dad really isn’t a good man.
By dad I hope you know I mean your stepfather, not your birth dad. Your birth dad and I had our issues, but he’s a far better man and I do think he tries with you – you just oftentimes don’t give him a chance.I hope that’s changed.
But for real..I don’t understand why you idolize your stepdad so much. He’s incredibly selfish and just seems…off.I have my theories about him, but to say I have a bad feeling about him is an understatement. You say he’s always been there for you and your family. Uh. Why does he have his own bedroom and everyone else except your little sister has to sleep in the middle of the living room (including your mom)? Why does he have a keurig strictly for himself? Why does he go out and do whatever he wants even if it means going alone and leaving the rest of the family home? Why did he make you do household chores and keep you from seeing me until like 10 at night on one of the only weekends you’d be home for an entire month? I see him as being incredibly selfish…
You should really reconsider that.
But regardless, your faith is not something to take lightly. It really really bothered me towards the end of our relationship when you wouldn’t pray for me, when you dismissed me when I told you how important it was to pray and read your bible and I even offered to give you my audio bible to listen to on the road.
I don’t think you understood just how important this all is. It is the most important thing in your life.
Being baptized doesn’t make you a Christian.
Listening to worship music doesn’t making you a Christian.
Seeing a Christian play doesn’t make you a Christian.
Only truly accepting Christ as your Lord and Savior will save you. I’m not entirely sure if you’re really there, Larry. I don’t know that I can honestly say I believe you to be saved. I believe you don’t really know what it means to be a Christian and to know Christ. I believe you don’t really understand what it means to have a relationship with him, and that makes me sad.
We weren’t on the same page with our faith…and I didn’t think we were going to get there. I was growing and maturing so much in my faith, and you were holding me back. I couldn’t let that happen.
I loved you so much. So. so. so. much.
I was terrified of losing you,but I saw you slipping away before my eyes.
The only thing that scared me more than losing you was our future, which I was also beginning to see more clearly.
I really really really wanted to marry you. Our original plan was we’d get engaged after our 2 year anniversary and married after we’ve been together for 5 years. It all seemed so easy. The first year flew by so fast.
That’s when everything became downright horrifying.
I wanted to marry you…but it wasn’t just about you.
I thought about our future kids all the time. Would they have a father? I know we talked about this before. You said you’d take a local job so you’d be there for our kids and for me. I believed you…but I heard this so many times…by our 13 month mark….I doubted there was any truth to the statement.
You loved that truck more than you loved me. And I wondered who you’d choose when kids came in the picture…would you still love the truck more? I feared the answer would still be yes, and that broke my heart. My future kids deserve to have a dad that they can depend on. I couldn’t depend on you, so why should I have believed they could depend on you? You know I never forced you to take a local job, although naturally I’d never discourage it. I wanted you to be happy and figured if you wanted to go the distance, now that we’re not married with kids, this was the time to do it. But you told me all the time you’d take a local job. You’d get my hopes up so high only to shoot them down and to end up going further that initially planned. It was an emotional roller coaster. It was one thing to force me on that ride, but it would never be fair to our future kids. I couldn’t imagine having to put them through that.
I started to see all of my hopes and dreams and everything I ever worked for go out the window. I could say goodbye to ever working in a big city like NYC or LA (or anywhere in California for that matter). You didn’t even support me and my desire to go to school for my master’s degree because of the debt I’d further put myself in (although it really didn’t matter when it came to you and trucking school, did it? Also, I never asked you to pay for it…so why did it matter at all?). You didn’t even support the things that really would help me that you always supported in the past…like my 2nd cochlear implant surgery…why on earth would you not want that for me? Why the change of heart?
I always supported you and your hopes and dreams and everything you wanted to do…not that it was ever an option. You went and did your thing and made your own decisions and told me after the decision was already made. If you wanted to go further on the road, you did. And I was there supporting you…even if it meant waiting 3 months for you to come home. And I was always faithful, it was never a thought not to be.
You made me choose.
You made me choose between you and my career. I didn’t even know where I was going, what was happening.
I didn’t go to California. I visited and interviewed in New York, but ended up in Pennsauken…your aunt’s town…initially and then later, Philly, which you also wouldn’t support.
Choosing my career…choosing myself was one of the hardest, scariest decisions of my life. I wanted to marry you so bad. I thought you were the one and it scared the living day lights to think that I could have been walking away from the one I was supposed to marry. What if I just gave up on the man God designated for me to spend eternity with? Would this mean I’d end up alone for the rest of my life?
As I already stated, my faith was important to me. I was a real christian unlike you and I was growing more in my faith. I was reading my bible more than ever. I began to read Mark Hall’s book, Thrive and I listened to the album that inspired the book. I prayed all the time.
We were made to thrive.
…So why wasn’t I thriving?
Not only was I not thriving, I wasn’t even living.
I was just a part of your shadow…sacrificing my everything…all for you.
But you wouldn’t even support me and my career…or really anything in my life.
I prayed all the time. First I prayed that things would get better. Then I realized, maybe this isn’t God’s will. Then I prayed for clarity. I prayed for God to show me the way.
Our anniversary came and went. I was so excited. I made you a special dinner. I got you a nice card. I didn’t get a gift since I didn’t think you’d get me one and I knew we were going away on vacation for our anniversary a month later.
You couldn’t even get me flowers. Or a card. I barely got a “Happy Anniversary” out of you.
I guess I wasn’t even worth the $3 you’d pay for a card.
I didn’t even get mad though. I was use to the disappointment by then, and I knew we’d just celebrate in a month when we went away. I was so excited for that. We spent nearly a full year planning it. But then I noticed something….
I was the only one excited.
The closer we got, the less excited we got.
I didn’t get it. Maybe it was because you already went to Lancaster and did all of the things we were going to do with your family.
There you go with your freakin’ family again.
They discouraged you from going, didn’t they? What happened to “I really want to do this and am going to put my foot down?”. You parents never wanted us to go. Your sister ended up pregnant or a similar trip, so obviously we were destined to have the same fate.I’m so glad your family had so much faith in us. I’m so glad they seen me as little more than a whore. How flattering.
I told myself, if this didn’t work out, it must be a sign from God that I’m supposed to just walk away from it all. It’s not meant to be.
Boy, I didn’t want this to be true.
I wanted so bad for you to prove me wrong this time.
But you didn’t.
You did the opposite.
You claimed you were sick. Yeah, right.
I did not break up with you because you got sick. That’s ridiculous. Contrary to popular belief by your family and I guess you, too, I’m not crazy.
I broke up with you because you’re always sick. You’re always tired. You’re always late. You can never help it. It’s always something. Conveniently though, you’re only ever these things precisely when it’s time for you to come home and see me.
When you’re only coming to see me, you’re always several hours late and often times we can’t make it to whatever we initially planned…like say our 2nd Newsboys concert for our anniversary. But when it comes time to see your family, your world stops for them.
It wasn’t fair, Larry. I wanted you to be like that for me. I was jealous. I shouldn’t have had to feel that way…jealous of your family. Because I wanted to become your family. I wanted to become your wife.
“Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” – Ephesians 5:31
It’s right there in the bible, Larry. If you’re a christian like you claim to be, you’d be more than willing to let go of your parents to pursue me and work towards making me your wife and building a foundation and family with me.
But you wouldn’t do that for me. And I was tired of waiting. I was tired of settling.
We were made to thrive.
So that day I fought with you. I hung up the phone. And I never looked back.
The part of our breakup that hurts the most is that you never attempted to call me back. Why is that? Why did you just let me go so easily without a fight?
Just 13 months of our relationship all out the window. I never meant for things to end this way. I never wanted this ugly breakup.
A lot of people don’t understand why I never tried to reach out to you, why I never closed the deal and got my closure.
I guess I did though. I know why things had to end. I know this is God’s will. I did want it to end better though and I did wish we talked through it more, but I can’t bring myself to talk to you. Because it just further drills in the fact that it’s always me doing everything for you…loving you, giving you my all, putting forth an effort, and apologizing even for YOUR mistakes when I stand by idly getting nothing in return.
If I talk to you and initiate the contact…it would be a mistake. I’ll apologize for you even though I did nothing wrong. I’ll beg you to take me back. We’ll get back together. And it will be this same horrendous, unhealthy cycle all over again.
I’m not going to make these mistakes. I’m not talking to you unless you talk to me first, and even that’s a maybe.
I’m focusing on me for once, and ever since I did that, my life’s gotten better.I left my miserable job and am now working a great one. I am becoming a college professor. I’m going back to school and it’s not even going to cost me anything to do it! I got my 2nd cochlear implant surgery. I visit NYC when I can and I love it every bit as much as I knew it would.
I got baptized. My relationship with God means far more to me than my relationship with you.
I am finding myself in this world, and realizing I have more of an identity than being a trucker’s wife.
And closure? This nearly 5,000 word blog post gave me all of the closure I could ever need. These are all of the words I’d say to you if I was ever going to talk to you again…which I have no plans of doing.
I survived you. Every day I get a little stronger and I realize:
I’m better off without you.
Let’s face it, breakups suck. Sometimes they can come seemingly out of nowhere at the most surprising or inconvenient times. Sometimes we know they are coming. Maybe you’ve been arguing with your boyfriend or girlfriend for weeks and can’t seem to resolve your issues. Maybe one of you is moving far away from town and the other can’t or won’t join you.
Or maybe you never saw it coming. Maybe you loved that person with all of your heart and soul, but they drifted away from you because they didn’t feel the same. Maybe you even caught that person in the act of cheating…ouch!
Regardless of what the cause of the breakup was or whether or not you saw it coming, it doesn’t change the fact that breakups suck. However, with or without that person, life must go on. If you’re a writer, a breakup is no valid excuse to give up on your dreams and quit your job as a writer.
But what do you do if you find yourself needing to write about your ex? If you’re a songwriter like Taylor Swift then you might want to use your songwriting skills to help you cope with your breakup. This can be a great way to help you express yourself and deal with your emotions. However, it can also come at a risk. You don’t want to sound bitter or catty. If you’ve never dabbled in the art of songwriting before you may want to avoid it altogether at least until you start to really get over your breakup just so you don’t end up sounding too bitter and making a fool out of yourself in the process. Hey, we can’t all be Taylor Swift (although I wish I could be!)
However, one challenge you may face as a writer is dealing with how to write about your ex if you were in the process of writing a novel that they played a role in. If you’re working on a piece of fiction then it probably won’t be too hard for you to just further fictionalize the character or cut them off altogether, but what happens if you’re writing a memoir or a piece of nonfiction that your ex plays a bigger role in? Sometimes it is not practical to simply cut them out of the picture. Sometimes writing about your ex is completely unavoidable. Sure, it’s never easy to write about your ex especially during a recent breakup, but there is a way to do it without sounding bitter. Here’s how:
1. Only write what’s necessary. Let’s be real, writing about your ex may feel like torture. Did you have an amazing relationship and then have it all unexpectedly fall to pieces? Were you in love with someone that wasn’t in love with you? Did you have a horrific, messy breakup? Whatever the case may be, you can pretty much bet on the fact that your breakup has you feeling at least a little bit lousy and chances are you’d rather not think about it now, let alone write about it. This is why the first and most important step is to only write what is necessary. If you can cut your ex out of the story without jeopardizing your plot or story line, DO IT. If you can’t, such as the case for me and the memoir I am currently writing, then the trick is to only write what is necessary. Writing about your ex is hard, so why torture yourself with excessive, unnecessary details?
2. Tell the truth. Here’s another challenge you may face when writing about your ex: telling the truth. You’re going through a breakup and it sucks and you’re hurting. The only things you want to write now is probably about how horrible of a person your ex is and how you feel they deserve to be cast in a pit of fire. But really think about your relationship — was it always this horrible? What drew you to that person and what made you stay in the relationship for as long as you did? There’s a good chance that person had some good in them. Focus on the good and tell the positive side in the story.
Sometimes there really may not be a positive side to tell, and that’s okay, too. You could very well be writing a story about a nasty, abusive relationship and how you survived it (though I hope to God you aren’t because that’s just awful). Good or bad, you should always tell the truth and nothing but the truth about your ex when writing him into your novel. Don’t turn him or her into a criminal when everything wasn’t all that bad just because you’re hurting now and don’t make him or her out to be a saint if he wasn’t really all that great of a person.
3. Give yourself a break. Writing about your ex is going to be hard. You may have to write about all of the best parts of your relationship and this will remind you of the fact that it’s all gone now. Or, you may have to face the reality that you loved that person and their way of thanking you for your love was by cheating on you. You will be forced to relive, re-experience, and reevaluate your relationship, and quite honestly, watch your heart break all over again in the process. It will not only be painful, but emotionally draining as well. For this reason it is important to give yourself a break. Write down a couple of paragraphs and when things get too hard or too painful to continue, take a walk and get some fresh air. Chances are when you return you will feel refreshed, renenergized, rejuvenated, and prepared to write a better story anyway.
Writing about your ex will likely be the hardest part of your story, but that’s no reason to abandon your writing project. Remember, if you walk away and give up on your writing, your ex wins in the end. He or she already broke your heart, do you want him to ruin the writing project you’ve already worked so hard and invested so much time and energy on, too? I didn’t think so. When you follow these tips you’ll be able to continue on your story writing about your ex with grace without sounding bitter or angry in the process.
This past Halloween was not fun. I was in the process of moving and feeling 24344334 shades of blue.
Casey and I were broken up. We were not speaking. Or actually I guess I should say he wasn’t speaking to me. And it hurt. A lot.
We spoke about Halloween in months passed. He was so excited about it. He recently discovered Dr.Who and was obsessed. He wanted to be the doctor for Halloween and I was going to be the tardis…well so he thought. I definitely wasn’t keen on dressing up as some stupid blue box for Halloween especially since I never even seen Dr. Who before. But I tried to negotiate by offering to be a companion or something else. I honestly just wanted to make him happy and was honored to be a part of his plans. He didn’t have a good childhood and never had a chance to dress up for Halloween. His dad didn’t approve of it and hearing that mad me so sad. I wanted to help him make up for his loss childhood. Plus, since we couldn’t physically be together on Halloween, this would help us create a sense of belonging and connect even while over 1,000 miles away.
The fact that Casey and I were broken up and not on speaking terms and therefore not participating in our planned Halloween together crushed me. I was very depressed on Halloween. I called it a night at like 8pm. I didn’t really celebrate at all. I did, however, write a letter.
Despite being completely screwed over by Casey, I couldn’t quit him. He was my favorite drug and I was quite the addict. When he left he did so without any explanation at all which I think was the hardest part for me. I needed closure. I needed reasoning. But I had nothing.
In an attempt to find closure, to get an explanation, a reaction, or at the very least, say all that I needed to say…I wrote a letter on Halloween. This is what it said:
I shouldn’t be writing this email. My friends would kill me for this. But they don’t understand.
I’ve written this email in my head about a thousand times. I keep fighting the urge to put it on paper and hit send…but well, here’s the word document…here’s the text that keeps expanding. Whether or not it makes it to the save button, or gets copy and pasted into gmail and makes it to you…well…that’s to be continued.
And whether that all happens and you choose to open it…that’s also something I’m unsure of, but I’m expecting the answer to be a no. I’m expecting this to go straight into the trash folder, completely unread. That breaks my heart so much, but its reality. It’s how things are now, despite how much I try to convince myself things are different.
We broke up over 4 months ago. That’s almost as long as my longest relationship lasted. But it hasn’t gotten easier. It gets harder. I haven’t even bothered to look at anyone else. My friends think I’m stubborn and stupid. Some of them tell me I’m holding onto a dream or something that’s make belief or not real. I guess she’s trying to help or look out for me…but she doesn’t get it.
There’s you and then there’s the rest of the world. The world is ugly. The people that are in it, a majority anyway, are ugly. I’ve been with ugly people. I’ve been in toxic relationships. I’ve done things I shouldn’t have. Things happen that should not have happened. I don’t want to make those mistakes again. I feel like I’m the only one that sees mistakes at mistakes though. Everyone else sees it as a part of life.
Things with you were different. I loved you. I still do. You were everything I always dreamed of having. I missed you so much when you went home to Florida. But I knew (or I guess now the way to say this would be thought I knew) I would see you again someday. I don’t think I stopped believing that yet.
I could be myself around you. I never felt pressured. I never felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t. The only thing I hated about being with you was time. It never stopped moving and I never had enough time with you. I wish I could have paused it. We spent just three days together, but I replayed every second of those days in my head a thousand and one times. It’s like having a film that never stops playing.
I’ll never forget singing the backstreet boys with you in the mall. Or experiencing my first captioned film at Somerdale movie theatre with you and dancing to the credits at the end. The only two people left in the theatre (which I guess doesn’t say much since there was hardly anyone else there at all). The room could have been packed and nothing would have mattered though. I knew than what I knew before. I loved you and wanted that moment to last an eternity. It was just a bliss. I was so happy with you right then.
I’ll never forget when you left. I never hugged anyone like that before. I never wanted to let go. It was so sad and so beautiful. You promised me you would be back. When we went out to dinner and I got sad because I knew we had only minutes left together. You said, and I quote, “I’m leaving the area, but I’m not leaving you.”
I know that things change. I know that things changed when you went home. But I never saw that coming.
We used to talk about a lot of things, Casey. I would kill for one of those conversations. I miss falling asleep talking to you. You were 1000 miles away, but you always felt right next to me. It was the kind of closeness you can’t even describe to another person. I miss it.
We used to talk about the future. Dreams, hopes, plans. I thought you would be a part of that. I prayed for it. I really believed one day, it would happen.
You used to talk to me about forgiveness. You were so afraid that one day you’d do something and I wouldn’t be able to forgive you. We weren’t married. Not even close to that. Of course, I had dreams we’d have that in the future. I thought you were the one.
I dreamed of you literally and figuratively. Remember how we would sometimes spend hours at night talking about all of the places we wanted to travel to, things we wanted to do? They were dreams, but I thought they were so real. I never dreamed of those things with anyone else. You’re the only one I’d want to see the world with. No one else would ever really appreciate it or see it the way you do anyway.
I wanted to marry you.
I wanted to raise children with you.
It all seemed so perfect. I didn’t want those things *now* of course. Now’s not the time for it. We need our careers. We need our individual families. And we need to see the world. But I thought in the distant future we could maybe have that. I can’t think of anyone else that would even come close to being half as great of a husband or father as you.
Maybe it’s stupid of me to think this way. But I thought maybe you felt something too.
You never told me you loved me, but I still believed it. I felt it. I can’t shake the feeling that we had something. I just can’t.
Even if we weren’t together…fine. I mean, it hurts but…
For you to not be anything at all in my life, just some guy I used to know. That’s unbearable for me right now.
My life has changed so much since you left me, Casey. In scary ways and also in wonderful ways. Sometimes even both at same time. Even when things are great I’m still overcome with a bit of sadness though because I no longer have you to share it with.
I quit Walmart. I wanted to tell you all about it. But you weren’t there.
I got a job as an Inbound Marketer. I’ve been extremely successful so far, almost more than anyone in the department. And you’re not there for me to talk about it.
You used to love this stuff…SEO, web stuff, everything.
I made an Infographic and didn’t know which program to use — photoshop or Illustrator — and I didn’t really have anyone that could offer helpful advice. You could have been that person. But you weren’t there.
My parents and I are moving to a new condo in a nearby, much nicer/safer town. We are so excited for this fresh new start in our lives. I wish I could share my excitement with you. But as excited as I am it still feels weird.
About two days before you left me you talked to me about how much you loved Cherry Hill. How you wanted to move there. I don’t mean to sound vain, but I thought I was part of that equation. I thought maybe one day you’d move there with me. We’d start a new life together.
I work in Mount Laurel. I have to go past Cherry Hill everyday on my way to and from work. I pass the hotel you stayed at everyday. It kills me.
I know things changed in your life too. You deleted me from Facebook. You deleted me from Linkedin. You deleted me from Foursquare. You deleted me from everything there is to delete me from. But you are not invisible.
As much as you try to delete me, you can’t delete the memories or what is in my heart. Sometimes I wish you could.
I know that you left your job at Lab 3 Marketing. I do not know why or how. It doesn’t matter though.
I know that you have a new job at a hotel. I am very proud of you. Are you happy? You sound happy. I hope you’re happy. That’s all I ever want for you.
I hope I don’t sound like a stalker. Yes, I googled you. I looked you up on LinkedIn. Maybe that makes me a creepy stalker. Maybe that makes me a terrible person.
I try not to be like that.
When it comes down to it, I’m just a stupid girl that loves a boy.
I’m holding on to the things I once had. The things I so desperately wish I still had.
The things I can’t believe I lost.
But they’re gone now. I will never know why. I analyzed every little detail of this situation every second of every day since you left and here’s my conclusion:
I have no idea.
I have no idea why this ended.
This never should have happened.
I still love you and I always will.
I had something really great with you.
And I’m scared to death I’ll never have it again.
I got my wish. Casey and I reconnected in January. A few days ago we made plans to travel to DC together for his spring break. We were going to use the trip to reconnect and discuss our future and the possibility of getting back together. But within about 24 hours of making plans, Casey up and left with little to no explanation again.
This time I’m done. So fucking done. Look at this letter I wrote on Halloween. Look at my previous blog posts. It’s obvious I cared a great deal and did way more than I should have to make this work.
It’s also obvious that I deserve so much better.
Have a nice life, Casey Fraites. Leave me out of it.