I'm sitting here thinking about what is going down in four short days. Three really. It will be one of the hardest anniversaries I have dealt with. The day my heart was broken for the final time by my ex,Frank. The day I finally got to the edge of all that I thought I was.
Looking back, I wasn't that person I am now when I was with him. I was living a half life. Constantly trying to be someone for him and for me. It was like dancing on the edge of a razor; no matter what I did, I got hurt. I've finally healed enough to where I can walk on my own again, but some days, it still hurts.
There are days when I am reminded of him and how he hurt me in the end and I am still haunted by that. When someone says something hateful or does something hateful. When someone says someone hurt them. I still have too much empathy.
People have asked me if I still have feelings for him. The only part of me that still cares about him is the part of me that is still broken. That fractured part of me only loves the memory of what he was when I knew he loved me. When the words didn't fall dead from his lips to my ears. When I didn't feel judged. When I didn't work three jobs to try to escape him and stay at my apartment just to get away. I hardly remember those happy times.
Like it or not we know a lot of the same people. I'm friends with most of his friends. There is a sadness to that. There's a part of my life that will always have a part of him in it. I will always hear his name. The only way I would be rid of him would be to pull the plug on a few of the very few friendships I have. Even then, Florence is a small town.
In many ways, I'm thankful I'm not with him. If I were still with him, I probably wouldn't be in school right now. I probably wouldn't have found my solace in writing again. I wouldn't have my voice back. I'd still be silent. I have found a strength and happiness in myself that I didn't know existed.
I had never broken up with someone before Frank left me. Because of me being able to see things as they are, I was able to walk away from the one after him when I knew that he would always drink too much for my liking. I was able to look at what the one after that one was doing behind my back and knew when he lied to my face that he was no good for me. I will never be strung along again. I am many things, but a damned fool is not one of them.
Looking back, I wish people had been harder on me. Told me not to have hope and to walk away. Maybe I wouldn't still be the way I am. After this bout of stupid hope, I'm never going to deal with relationships this way again.
I wish Frank would one day come to grips with himself. I wish he would stop thinking he has to be tall or smart or any certain way. His constant oneupsmanship is tiring and arduous. I've just gotten to where I accept myself as I am. I am so much more than what I was and I will get better every day.
Now I have Tim. Sweet and bumbling and terribly affectionate. A geek after my own heart. I hung out with him for two months before we actually considered ourselves really dating. We'd sit and watch movies and hold hands. I liked his company. He never asked anything other than my time and attention. Then we started dating, but still kept everything from most of the world. We've only recently been seen together in public and identified as a couple. I feel like we've been running some crazy spy game. I sort of like it though. We keep to ourselves. We don't really hang out with anyone.