Time and time again, I write about everything that goes on in my life and I hold nothing back. I do not ‘over share’ to be malicious or spiteful. I do not do it to embarrass someone or myself even. I do not do it to get any kind of attention. I do it because it is real, and for me personally, I deeply appreciate when people are so raw and exposed because then it is far more relatable.
Yesterday I found out that my ex boyfriend is dating a girl with the same name as me. The same first and middle name. She also has red hair. My best friend Kevin only told me about it because he thought it was a joke; he thought they were making fun of me somehow. When I looked at what he had shown me, my initial reaction was, “Wait, what? Is this real life?” For anyone that knows me, really knows me, I do not flatter myself whatsoever. I am not conceited and I do not think the world revolves around me. I do not think he subconsciously ‘looked for me’ in other women. Perhaps in some way, to him, she is an improved version of me. Initially, when you see someone you once loved move on, it’s hard. And when you find out that you share the same name as that person and some of the same features, it’s … I don’t even really have an appropriate feeling to compare it to. Either way, of course I was sad. Because I accept my feelings enough to know that I am not yet over the last situation that occurred between him and I. It is not that I miss him, or that I am still in love with him. How he handled that entire situation was in a way that was selfish. It was for convenience. He was scared, and I was a safety net. Come to think about it, as I laugh, I was a lot of things to him apparently, but none of them defining or good. I sit before my computer right now, with the letter he had written me when he wanted me back. I will not post it verbatim, but it goes like this:
“When I came back weeks ago, you were finally the girl who you needed to be and when I saw it I tried to grab it. This has been hard not being able to have you, the new you, and see how much more years we can spend together.”
The new me.
At the time I kind of overlooked it. But reading it now is just, wow. I was not a new person. I just became stronger because the one thing I thought I couldn’t live without, I did! And what a liberating feeling that was. And for whatever reason, even now, a part of me has him on this pedestal. For what? He was a very thoughtful person and did a lot. But I did a lot, too.
We were young when we met; we were in high school. We’re still young. Most times, people grow apart and that’s okay! Because whether you realize it or not, you’re not the same person you were 5 years ago. You’ve changed, you’ve grown up a little bit, you’ve done new things, new people even. I thought the person that I loved thought that I wasn’t good enough for him. And it turns out, in some senses, I wasn’t. I wasn’t happy enough. I didn’t stand straight enough. My vagina wasn’t good enough to be eaten out. I was too complicated. I was too insecure. But I tried so hard and I still couldn’t make him fall in love with me. But that’s okay. I have yet to experience that ‘a-ha’ moment, simply because I knew it wouldn’t be mutual. How much different life seems when we are finally un-blinded by love. Yet, maybe there is no ‘a-ha’ moment. Either way, how joyous and different it will be to experience a feeling of mutuality that is so vital in relationships.
Despite my bitchy exterior, my heart is so very kind. If something is important to someone, I’ll remember it. I’m thoughtful. I’m loyal. I’m honest. I’m not selfish. I can be a bitch, but everyone can. I’m talented. I’m blunt. I think I’m unique-looking. My eyes are pretty. I’m witty. I’m a lot of things, good and bad. I’ve just learned to stop apologizing for the bad things. I apologized so much in my last relationship for who I was. And I’d get: it’s okay, just try harder next time.
Is that ideal? Is that what I would want again? Fuck no. It was passive aggressive and somewhat demeaning looking back on it.
I’m so fucking weird, but I like it. And someday someone will fucking love it.
Who I am does not fit with who you’ve become. I knew you very well. But we have both changed. I do not know the person you’ve become. And I’m not certain I want to.
Anyway. If you ever happen to read this, I hope you’re happy. I wish you the best, I really do. I’m glad you found someone. I did, too: myself.