Nighty Night Bubbaloo #3

I found myself caught up today in social media. I tried to work on some projects but didn’t have the right equipment, so I have to wait ’till tomorrow. I really felt this relapse in myself. I felt a longing for George (my recent ex who has my dog at the moment)

I feel in this moment a type of longing. A slight fear of how he is going to move on so fast. I left, and within 2 weeks he is out and hanging out and partying. Why does it bother me? I wish I knew. I want him to be happy. He wasn’t with me, and that makes me uber sad. However, he RARELY did anything with me, So I would leave and drink. It was a struggle.

To get him to go any where other than work was like herding snakes. Impossible. HE was impossible. Never happy. The only conversations we would have would be based off the funniest meme we would send one another; while we laid next to each other, or his day at work. IF I talked about anything else, he’d be so face deep into Samsung he didn’t care. He would play games on his phone and cuss out loud when his make believe car would crash. I would pretend to watch TV. All the time wondering why he didn’t want me the way I did him.

Like a child, I mourned my invisible friend. He wasn’t real. He was a mirage. An escape from the emotional dehydration. I knew the love he had was of complacency and comfort. Mine was of fear. Although I would cry myself to sleep, I felt that it was better than not being able to reach over and feel his skin. Even when he rejected the touch, at least that second was fulfilled, I would imagine kissing him; his beard brushing around my lips. I was insane.

4 out of 5 years, my bed was just the one he called home. The home where he stored his clothes and his food. He would touch other women, and come home and pretend. So I would pretend as well (I get it from my granny). It was home, it was sacred; no bad vibes allowed. I was his real friend though; the friendship was real. He was there when I needed him and we weren’t completely shitty toward one another, despite the discomfort and anger. I couldn’t hold it in all the time though.

He didn’t know it, but he loved helping strangers. I would watch him create and build for those that would appear out of no where. It made me happy to see him this way. But I didn’t see that when he would look at me. I could see in his eyes he was just scared because he felt at any moment I was going to erupt. I was a clogged filter.

I was a volcano. My simmering core; molten emotion. I held it in because any time I tried to emote properly I was ‘stupid’. IF I asked him how he was feeling, it was a threat.

“Why do you ask such stupid questions,” he would reply.

I would run away as a tortoise, slowly across the room to the shower, or a pretend stomach ache. I would simmer in my tears and the steam, so my eyes didn’t swell.

“Don’t let him see you cry,” my Granny would say. “Don’t give him that power!”

I also took that as ANY ONE! Don’t let any one see you cry. Also, No one fucking cares about your ‘whanny whanny boo boo fucking issues that every person goes through’ . Its called a goddamn break up, get over it.

At the end though, Everyone seen me cry. It was either that or back to the VA. AND nobody wants to see that!

Well, Now,  I am here in this Jungle. The real one. Not the one I created out of nothing. Closed inside the NYC concrete. Here it is legit. Even the imagination is real. I have taken that space of false conformity and turned it into self acceptance. HE allowed me to really feel; to really love. He subconsciously taught me to understand that it is not ok to just pretend and use those that truly feel things, and that let go on you. Do not ignore it. I realized in losing my “Drop Dead Fred”, that I am one in a billion. And so I need to really hone in on that and accept that I cannot control that, which I cannot fucking control.

I told my Ex, Roxsee, when we broke up that I was grateful to have met her. I said that I was grateful because she showed me everything that I didn’t want to be. That was hurtful. She really loved me I think, as did many others in my “trail of tears”. And Now, well, now I know that you just have to love yourself. If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you are with, Janis said. WEll, here I am; With myself!

And I am loving every second of it. Even if sometimes I feel!

Ciao From Guanacaste!

 

 

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