Amazing how many things come up when all I want to do is call somebody. There is grocery shopping to be done, house cleaning, a ton of dishes that need washing (even though they sit clean in my cupboards), catching up on that book I promised my brother I would read, snuggle and nap time with kitty and Saucy (and boy were they snugglebunnies),all these different things that served as excuses for me not calling him immediately. And it isn’t that I didn’t want to call him immediately. Because I did. It’s just….
It’s taken me all day (and some good old fashioned one on one time) to figure out why exactly I hesitated in calling him. Of all the little reasons that are insignificant, like household chores and bullshit excuses, after sifting through all the nonsense that crept up and made it’s way into my day, I finally realized why I was so afraid. It’s the sound of his voice. The voice of a man that I really cared about, and I know cared for me~ cared for me above and beyond what I deserved, seeing as how I treated him. I knew (and know) that the second I heard his voice I would break down in tears, that I would end up saying things over the phone that I want to say in person. Things I want to look him in the eyes and make amends for. I know that if I were to get him on the phone, I would loose it and be a blathering mess of a human. Which would be fine. But I want to see him. I want him to see me. I want us to sit together so that I may do what is necessary for my recovery, and possibly for his. The way I left things, there was no closure. I didn’t want to make a call and have that be a place where closure was possible.
So I text him. We set up a meeting for tomorrow and I will sit with him and tell him I was wrong to him. It’s on it’s way, and my heart feels full.
There were two comments on here that really affected me, the first about ego convincing me (and yes, you put it very well, I didn’t take offense) that I was the anti-christ and did the worst possible things, and the second a quote that I’ve been sitting with all day and will use to close the post.
It’s the opposite of ego that I struggle with, not feeling lovable, not worth forgiving, not worth time and space. It’s the same shit really, just another extreme, that shame based bullshit I try and work through in every therapy session with Beans. That’s why she makes me say I’m lovable, even if it lands me in waterworks. She says if I say it enough I’ll believe it, and I can say it without crying now, but the believing part is still hard. There hasn’t been a day gone by that I haven’t thought of the way I left this man, and yes yes yes “Humility isn’t thinking less of myself it’s thinking of myself less” but the issue has always been opposites, thinking the worst of myself at the same time as thinking the best. Such strange and silly extremes, I think I’m amazing in bed but fucking terrible with the men I’m fucking in that bed. I’m the best girl friend a guy could ever have but I’m the worst girlfriend. As long as you don’t love me, you’ll like me. So exhausting. So confusing. So….played out.
I told my mom I’m going to see him and she started crying. He’s the one that brought me back to her after I’d disappeared on my family after a month long cocaine binge. He helped me turn my life around. He was one of the most genuine and compassionate men I’ve ever met. To be honest, I’m really excited to see him, and I’m grateful. Incredibly grateful.
Comment of the day, thank you Felix:
“Absence diminishes minor passions and inflames major ones. Just like the wind douses a candle… and fans a flame.”
Thank you all for supporting me through this.