Obviously I don’t feel comfortable posting about this.
However, I choose writing as my medium over most things and so here I am, wearing a deep cleansing mask over my face, looking like an alien, and instead of where I should be, sleeping by now, I am writing.
This morning started as usual. I woke up; late. Got to work; late. Worked; hating it, trying to focus.
These past weeks I’ve been working while wishing to be elsewhere so hard that I feel like I have been drugged. At the end of each day I can barely recall what I did and how I made it through such long, relentlessly boring and purposeless hours. I feel exhausted and dazed while barely having done anything at all. Such a drama queen I know.
This morning as usual, and not very work oriented, I was texting with all my friends from various, and more exciting, parts of the world and walks of life. People who are already enjoying their lunch while I cling to my watered down cup of coffee in my dreary morning office. Time differences, work differences and just different differences. They keep me entertained. They distract me from the brain corroding work I am doing. Which incidentally most people in my field would kill for my job…and I would let them kill…but alas, the bills must be paid and I shouldn’t be complaining so much for actually having a job and for being able to support myself to most degrees. Things have been and could be worse, that’s for sure.
Well; this morning I got a text from Mr.MD. Now Mr.Ex I guess…
“When you get a chance can you send me my stuff” – after about 3 weeks of nothing from him (which is fine considering where we’re at). I answered “yes of course”.
Because the problem is that his stuff has been packed and ready to go for months. Since January actually. Why didn’t I ship it? I have no idea. No it’s not because I wish maybe I didn’t have to and we’d be back together. I lost that sentimentality a while ago. I just didn’t ship it.
How the conversation evolved from there….no clue. Things were said. Stupid things like “Just don’t come, cause you have no reason to be in New York”….like I didn’t live there before I dated this man.
“I’d rather not have you in my life at all cause it’s a joke” “I don’t even want to hear about you from someone else, ever” and other amazingly childish remarks. He ended up calling me. I took the call…should I have? I don’t fucking know anymore.
We fought some more. He doesn’t see why I left still. I can’t see why he can’t see that. We’re both so fucking blind it hurts.
Lucky for me, I am not the complete idiot I sometimes act like. I know why we didn’t work. I stated my case. He denied it but I stuck to my guns. Since it was morning and I couldn’t have a conversation like that one mid work and neither could he we hung up.
I then found another woman to talk to. Across the ocean and in another country yet always available to help; especially when relationships are the gossip topic. After talking, or more like venting and ranting and cursing, I agreed that I should give him yet another chance to see what was supposed to be different this time.
I spent the rest of the day “working” feeling miserable. I didn’t like, trust or love anyone. Even the people I was so ready to die for the day before. Nothing. I crawled into my little hate filled nook and waited. Waited because I knew that after work and all my other responsibilities, at 10:15PM I had a call scheduled with Mr.Ex.
I just finished the call. What happened? What I knew would happen. Nothing, in a sense, and something.
Nothing because he cannot produce and give me the things I require from a man.
Something because, I am really strongly hoping, we left it finally at a better place than last time.
I did love him. This time even I, who is so highly skillful at this by now, cannot be friends with this Ex. Not now. It does hurt. No one likes a breakup usually. Unless it’s something really really horrible you are happy you made it out of there alive I guess.
I told him plainly; This is what I wanted. This is what you brought to the table. This is what I asked for. This is what you brought to the table. The table was pretty empty. Done. No words or excuses. The reality is the reality. And I have made myself face the facts. No matter how much I love or loved him the fact of the matter is that a relationship has to work with certain factors agreed upon and set up between both lovers involved.
What do I wish for? I wish for my heart not to break when he begins a new relationship.
I wish for him to be truly happy with himself and no longer regret not having me.
I wish for him to not hate me, resent me, or wish me to remain alone.
I wish for me to let go.
I wish for me to be willing to start something new and not kill it with self doubt and anger.
I wish for me to be an old friend. One who truly knows him beyond others and who is loved and respected but never demanded of.
I wish for things to be easier.
And mostly I wish for the patience, courage and strength to make these wishes come true.
Good night now,