Now I Know

Stay away from people who make you feel like you are hard to love.

-Unknown

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February 16th, 2011–Day Twenty-Two

Do you remember that email you sent me back in January? You said you wanted all these beautiful things–you wanted to visit me, for my visit you and meet your housemates etc. You said you’d forgiven me (and you also said you weren’t sure what you were forgiving me for…) You said you were moving forward instead of holding onto all that had happened.

I had _________ read the email, because it made me feel confused. It reminded me of the you before we started to fight. Of the you I fell for. So I showed it to her. And she said something interesting. She agreed with you that we needed to talk. She agreed with me that you not knowing what you were forgiving me for was because I hadn’t done anything wrong really.

But then she said that we could work this out. She said we had an opportunity to possibly have an even stronger relationship than before, but in order for that to happen I needed to forgive you and more importantly, forgive myself.

I was holding myself back from dealing with this because of the overwhelming guilt I felt for everything, for not seeing your visit actually coming and talking you out of it, for how I acted when you got here, for how I responded to your confession, for not being strong enough of grown-up about it, for the two months I struggled with how to be in your life, and how to keep you in mine.

Forgive my own weakness in breaking down and not having the ability to give you what you were asking for.

I just let the guilt take over. That’s why I kept saying I was being a horrible friend. I couldn’t handle it–any of it. I wouldn’t let myself off the hook. I wasn’t forgiving myself. I couldn’t.

But now that I know what I want, now that I’ve sorted out the meanings of the last six months and what it means for me in the future…I forgive myself. I’m in a good place with my actions. I’m the one who has to live with what I have and haven’t done. I have to be okay with me before anyone else can be okay with me. So I’ve taken myself off my own hook. I’m square or whatever.

I think it’s a huge step, accepting what I’ve done and understanding that there’s nothing I can do to change what’s in the past. That doesn’t mean that everything is okay again.

No matter how hard I try, I still can’t forgive you.

There are moments still that I can’t fathom what goes through your head, why you do things, why you think the things that you have done are okay (and if you say it’s because you’re in love I’ll have to resist the urge to hit you…I need logical reasons) yet what I have done is inexcusable to you.

So I’m trying, but it’s hard to let go. I still feel duped and I still feel like you’ve disregarded me, my feelings, and my desires (known or not).

When I was explaining how I might have been in love with you, but that I had never been sure, you said “you’ll know it when you feel it.” It’s like whatever my feelings were don’t matter if they’re not defined as actually “in love.”

You totally disregarded the feelings I actually had by saying that. Maybe I was, maybe deep down I knew it, maybe I was in denial because you had a girlfriend and it didn’t matter how I felt because you never gave me a real chance to find out if I was or not.

But you don’t get to say those types of things to me anymore. How I felt is how I felt. I wanted to be with you and that wasn’t enough for you so it doesn’t matter if I was in love or not. Because I’m not anymore.

You can’t just write love off like it makes sense. If I had told you then, would it have changed things? I highly doubt it. And that’s probably what broke my heart in the first place.

So no I haven’t forgiven you. I’m still bitter and angry about too many things that I shouldn’t be from too long ago. It’s going to take time I guess–patience, which I’m starting to get a better grip on lately. Let’s just say I’m working on things one step at a time.

And it’s okay if you don’t forgive me for all the things you think I’ve done wrong.

In this case, I don’t care what you think of me, if I”m good or not because I’ve made peace with myself. That’s whats important to me. I’m getting better. I’m less self deprecating and self loathing. I’m actually pretty happy about who I am.

THere’s always a chance I’ll wake up tomorrow and wish something was different, but the last few days have definitely improved my chances of waking up at least content. That’s more than I could have asked for really.

February 15th, 2011–Day Twenty-One

This may seem a little off topic. I’ve had a lot of epiphanies lately and this sort of relates to previous “conversations.”

I was driving around yesterday running errands and I passed this woman protesting on the sidewalk. Her sign said “Women do regret getting abortions.” Being the opinionated person I am, I was a little put off by it since I am strongly pro-choice. It got me thinks though…

Last semester I saw this poetry slam about feminism, the line that has always stuck out to me is “if you were really pro-life you’d adopt a child”

We need to take care of the people already born, already living, breathing. So I decided, humanistically, I am pro-life. I want to give someone the life they deserve. I want to adopt at least one child.

I still want to have kids, but I really want to give someone already on this planet a better life. I think that’s important.

It’s just this thought I had.

Obviously it won’t happen for a long time, but I’m actually kind of excited about it. I hope it works out.

February 14th, 2011–Day Twenty

This is such a loaded day. I wonder if it’s even worth talking about, of course when it comes to us, I might as well just “rant”

I figured out what I want. Finally, after all this time of you “pestering” me. I can’t count the number of times I told you that I didn’t know. And now it makes so much sense. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

It’s not just about you either. It’s about every guy I’ve come into contact with since you visited. I’ve got you jumping head first into declaring you’re in love with me and just expecting me to be gung-ho about it.

I’ve got three different guys telling me in one way or another that they want to sleep with me, one of which offered for us to be friends with benefits. Which at that time was awfully tempting. This is probably not the best time to tell you I almost slept with him. But there it is. Feel free to hate me. Accuse me of not being the girl you thought I was. I got as close to having sex as you can possibly get without actually having it.

I’m sure you’re seething right now so I’ll spare you details–I don’t know where I was going with that confession, but it was bound to come out at some point.

I didn’t though. When it came down to it, I said no. It wasn’t right. I can’t have sex with someone I don’t love. I don’t think that will ever change. I don’t regret that transgression though, because it taught me a valuable lesson in my morals. I needed to know what it felt like. You may not understand it, but that’s how it is. That experience has helped me figure out what I want. It may have taken me months for all the pieces to come together but it did.

And I just want to say in my defense, although I hardly think I need to defend my personal choices to you, that when it happened you had shut me out. That week you said you couldn’t be friends with me, that you didn’t want me to talk to you.

As much as I’d love to blame you and say I did it out of spite or in revenge–that’s giving my faulty pride too much credit. I did it because at the time I wanted to. I wanted to feel something. Something other than anger or confusion, or sadness, or pain. Maybe you think that’s wrong of me.

I learned something about myself by hooking up with him. I learned that I”m not moved by others as much as I thought. I don’t give into pressure when I don’t want something, including sex.

I thought about saying yes, but it didn’t feel right. Part of me was scared. I didn’t know how I’d take it. And I knew if it was horrible he wouldn’t be what I needed to deal with.

So with that in mind, I came to this conclusion. I know all the things I don’t want. They’ve been piling up for months. I keep crossing them off the WANT list–process of elimination I guess. I kept telling you “I don’t know” because I really didn’t, but I think you took that as a cop-out, an excuse, a difference, me avoiding the discussion. I was trying to figure things out. I really was.

And today I finally know, but it’s too late to tell you. I hardly think you’d actually care. But here it is anyway.

I don’t want.

  • Guys telling me I’m gorgeous and they’ve always wanted to sleep with me.
  • Guys offering for us to be friends with benefits.
  • Guys expecting me to put out
  • Sex without love involved.
  • Guys flying across the country to declare they want me
  • Those same guys making jokes about us sleeping together.
  • Those same guys not seeing my point of view and getting mad at me for needing time to handle things.

What I want.

  • To be asked out on a sate. A simple dinner and a movie, something fun or unique.
  • Said date will have no expectations attached to it.
    • no sex
    • no marriage of long term relationship plans
  • Dressing up is not required, may not even be an option

I want to date, to get to know a guy without added pressure of said guy thinking I’ll put out or thinking we’ll be together for always. I want simplicity. I want patience. I want going-with-the-flow kind of plans.

I don’t want the end-all-be-all I assumed you were proposing back in August.

I want to go on a date, with someone. If you proposed this idea with the notion of us getting to know each other again after our awful two month fight I would have been more apt to go along with your insane cross country trip to see me.

Sometimes baby steps are better than giant-ass steps off balconies. That’s what I’ve learned from all this.

I’ve finally given you what you wanted–and it changes nothing, it might have actually made things worse.

But I have a tendency to do that when it comes to you, right?

You’re probably fuming. I’d be surprised if you’re not. You’re probably brimming with come backs and arguments and God knows what curse words, and names you could be calling me.

I just want you to remember that the choices I make are MY choices, not yours–and the person that I am is better for them. I firmly believe that.

You can choose to accept those choices as a part of me. You can choose to accept me as I am or you can choose not to, but I thought you’d want all the facts, you deserve them anyway. Best to be fully informed I think.

I make no apologies for who I am, or who I will become because at the end of the day I’m the one who has to live with myself. And despite moments of self-hatred, in general I LIKE who I am. Take it or leave it.

February 13th, 2011–Day Nineteen

I don’t know what to say right now. What more can I say to explain myself, to tell you I’m sorry? I’ve always been trying to fix this. I’m at a loss for what more I can do, what’s within my power.

Because while I’m not angry or upset, while I feel ready to give you my friendship. I still can’t promise you that I won’t say too much. Or not enough. I’ll never be able to promise you that.

I thought that was the beauty of our relationship. That we talked. We were honest and we let each other be ourselves. I suppose we both lost sight of that at some point, different points.

It’s such a shame really–who knows, maybe it was just inevitable. We’re so alike, maybe too alike, for it to work out. I just don’t know anymore.

February 12th, 2011–Day Eighteen

I can only hope these good days keep coming. I don’t want to jinx it though–I keep thinking of all the good times. Back before…everything, knowing we’ll never get that back, and wondering if it was as great as I remember it was. Sometimes I’m not so sure, but then I catch a glimpse of Gus, that platypus you made me by hand.

This morning I was grabbing a jacket and I saw the heart you had sewn into the right foot. A simple sign reminding me that we had potential once, even if it was always ruined by bad timing. You loved me, and that love was pure, before everything got screwed up.

I used to look at that paw and feel better knowing how much effort and care you put into making it. It made me feel like I was worth something.

What happened to us? How did we get from there to here?

Is it too soon to ask if we can start over? I think it might be but I don’t want to miss my chance.

I just don’t know anymore.