An Update

[spookie]

This thread is long and boring. He hasn't called me, we're not getting back together. Nothing has happened at all, but it's been a month of NC and tonight I'm a little depressed and I need somewhere to vent.

 

Three months ago, after the break-up, I was broke, unemployed, likely malnourished, and depressed; I'd needed a safe place to go. I spent my last few dollars on a slice of pizza, dumped all my belongings in an abandoned shed, and flew home.

 

Well, now I'm back in our college town. It's my last semester here; my first semester alone. It's been 4 days.

 

It was ok at first. My roommate helped me move all my things from the shed to the new house, which is beautiful (though in the shadiest part of town). The first night, we didn't have A/C (it's 95 here, at night) and it was too scary to sleep with the windows open (there were bums going through our trash in the yard), so we stayed up, got drunk on wine, and girl-talked.

 

The next day I slept in, got bit by a scorpion, and went to a pub.

 

The third day I spent with my best friend, whom I hadn't seen a year (he was in France). That was wonderful.

 

Today, though, it was time to start to rebuild. I went to the part of town our school is to run some errands and I felt him near. Everything I saw tugged at my heart. (Of course it would... I loved him the whole time I've been here.)

 

At the house, I began to unpack, and his things started coming out. Socks. Notebooks. T-Shirts. A pair of boxers. And the things he gave me.

 

Did I steal from him, regularly? It always irked him a little how I "borrowed" his things, but the truth is, I liked to have them around. My boyfriend's socks (I would wash them for him and put them in my drawers for when he visited). My boyfriend's raggedy t-shirts and blue checkered boxers (with holes). I liked wearing them. It felt intimate and I liked how loved it made me feel. How claimed.

 

I. loved. him. so. much. Dark-haired boy with crinkly scheming eyes. I loved him for his messy hair, his asymmetrical stubble, the scars on his back, how high he could jump, and his big hairy feet. Those are the things that I miss, and I can pretend that I just don't like being alone, that I just miss the companionship, but that's not it, it's him. It's him I miss. I don't know how to get over that.

 

The clothes still had his smell. I folded everything neatly, put it in a box, and drove to Salvation Army. On second thought, I took out two shirts (the one he brought back for me from Germany the first year we dated, the one he had with him when he drove for an hour to my house right after the airport, even though he hadn't slept in twenty hours, even though my whole family would be there, just to hug me; and the one of his I liked the best); and a notebook (so I'd remember what his writing looked like). Back at the house, I put them in my box of Things I Think Will Always Kill Me, which includes pictures of dead people in my family, an ultrasound of my aborted baby, ticket stubs of movies that ended up important (first kiss - Ice Age), pictures of me and my ex-best friend, a necklace I got in Hawaii with my dad (we don't speak anymore), and drawings my baby brother sent my first year at college.

 

I've the urge to reach out. I miss him so much. I want to know how he's doing. I want to try to be friends.

 

But, thankfully, the stronger side of me still understands impossibilities. Still remembers that it is his turn to call (he said he would, a month ago). And that even then, we'd have elephants to kill if we wanted a friendship without resentment. The old ones that have been in every room with us for years. The new ones he's made by treating me this way.

 

He;s never been good at facing elephants.

 

I'd be a good friend, but I can't make him face them. And I can't kill them alone.

[Balalaika]

Hi Spookie, I'm new here so I don't know your full story, but I wanted to let you know that what I read wasn't long or boring... it was beautiful. I could really feel your love, longing, melancholy, strength and acceptance of what is.

[dropdeadlegs]

Not to disregard your sadness and pain, spookie, but I remember him as a self centered, immature baby who doesn't begin to deserve such a caring, intelligent woman as yourself. He has probably spent the summer mastering the latest XBox/PS2/GameCube game with his best buddy what's-his-name.

 

So, it's your last semester. That must be exciting, to be in the home stretch. When do classes start?

 

How was your visit home? Did you find the nurturing you needed?

 

You didn't ask for advice, so I won't give any other than to put your shades on, 'cause your future is blinding me.

[spookie]

Thanks for the responses guys. I really wasn't looking for advice - I know what it is already - move on - but it's so hard to do. Every time I feel unloveable, rejected by society and especially by guys I am interested in, I miss my ex. He, I felt, loved me, and I wonder if someone else will again. Someone that I like.