It was about two years and a few days, or so, ago, when I figured out that my ex was cheating on me via a lovely Facebook post and some stalker-inclined behavior on my part. I’m glad I saw it. I’m sure I have told people that before. I immediately felt relief.
I do remember and what I have felt is insurmountable grief. It can’t be measured, calculated, or even postulated into any describable amount to be verified by any scientific or mathematical processing. I can’t begin to even explain it to anyone. There were lots of good days, and there were hordes of bad days. I have gotten to the point, where two years later, I am going through the motions. I am not sad all of the time like I was about a year ago. I am not constantly angry, as previous times had called into question.
I feel as though I am in mortal peril. No, not the kind where I am actually going to die, but the kind where my life has not turned out the way I wanted or expected it to, and there is a hoop I have to jump to, in order to move forward, that I just can’t grasp. It’s right in front of me, but I can’t touch it, yet.
Last week, I spent the entire week, all my waking and sleeping moments obsessing over my roommate’s cousin. I think I might have a minor obsessive crush on him.
We are talking ridiculous thoughts like planning a future and what not. Then, there I was obsessing and then arguing with myself, asking myself if I even like him. I wondered if I even have the capacity to like someone anymore.
Grief has been so consuming my soul for the past two years, if not more, since my ex ignored me for months before the actual break up, reverberating through my every being and determining each and every action that I will make. My mortal peril provides me with an incomprehensible dilemma: When do I get my life back? At what point do I get to regain the control that I lost so many years ago?
I need to force myself to push aside the grief and remember what it is to like someone. I’ve dug myself so far down this hole that I have arrived on the other side of the planet. Honestly. I keep letting fear and grief be the reasons why I am alone. I have accepted that I am alone. But, it doesn’t always have to be this way.
I saw him this weekend, at the bar where my roommate works. I was wearing heels, a skirt, and a shiny black tank top. My hair was done and my make-up was flawless. I gave him a hug hello and a hug goodbye when he left. I tried to have a conversation with him and then he randomly said he needed to go. I was disappointed because he said he would not be heading to my roommate’s barbecue the next day. I then tried to text him a few times and it didn’t pan out at all.
So, as of this week, the obsession has wavered off. I often find that I am the kind of person who needs constant attention. I need someone who doesn’t ignore my texts or respond days later. I need someone who contacts me first. I don’t enjoy being the person who always makes the effort. Sure, if I text you first, that’s huge. But, I expect you to respond. I could go into a rant about this, but I think that my ex ignoring me for months has made me very uncertain and uncomfortable with being ignored. Honestly, when someone doesn’t talk to me, I begin to panic.
Anyways, this post has not gone where I thought it was going to go. My brain is all scrambled. My thoughts are like waves going in a thousand different directions. I don’t feel sad today. I feel like I am stuck.