Fading Memories…

I have the luxury of having the last 12 years or so of my life documented in some form on the internet. From the time I was a senior in high school (I graduated in 2001) until around the time I had Micaela, I posted on a site called diaryproject.com. After that, I had a xanga blog that I kept up faithfully with for quite a few years before posting started to get more sporadic starting in 2008 or so. 2006 is the year that I met my now husband, and my life got a lot more stable and less “dramatic” after meeting him. There was less to talk about. 

One night a week or so ago, I found myself on DP reading through my old posts. It was incredibly embarrassing to read some of the posts. Sad. Bitter. Funny. Weird. I am so not that person anymore, and I almost cringe at the thought that I ever was. 

I had a hard time keeping my head straight when it came to men. It is so sad to look back and see myself in those situations. My heart aches for that girl. I want to lift her up and take her home with me. I want to tell her that she is so much more than that, she deserves more. I was so immature and naive back then. I didn’t use the brain inside of my head, didn’t accept reality as fact. I don’t know how I managed to delude myself for so long, that these men loved me, cared about me, would be there for me. None of it turned out to be true. 

The last guy I was with before I met Andy was different. He was a friend. I talked to his family. His children, mother, the mother of his children. I knew his friends and they knew me. He cared about my kids. He met my family. And I loved him deeply and passionately. But he turned his gaze elsewhere because I didn’t have a career, I wasn’t professional, I didn’t fit whatever image he had in his head on what he wanted his life to look like. I eventually moved away from the area, and shortly after met Andy. We maintained contact with each other, we’ve had dinner with him and his girlfriend at the time, he’s always had my number and vice/versa, we have each other’s emails. 

I made a choice a few months ago not to respond to an email he sent me, and I didn’t give him my number when I had to get a new one. He’s drunk almost every time he calls. The email he sent was asking me to contact an immigration lawyer in Canada for him, because he wants to try to move there from Mexico. I just decided that I wasn’t going to reply. A couple of days ago, I received another email from him. It was pretty passive aggressive; completely obvious that he was hurt I hadn’t responded to him. He was asking me if I could ask another mutual friend of ours if she would be able to pay him back the money he borrowed her a “few years ago,” which was back in ’04/’05 and had absolutely nothing to do with me. He had been in an accident and needed the money for rehab. 

I emailed him back and said I wasn’t able to help. I apologized for not responding, but that I had decided to close the chapter on that part of my life. I wasn’t that girl anymore, I’m a different woman. I made a comment about how if we were friends, he would contact me when he didn’t want something or wasn’t drunk. I told him I was sorry about the accident and that I wished him well.

This is HUGE to me. It finally feels like I got to be the one to say “You’re not good enough for me, and I don’t choose you.” Even though we aren’t together and haven’t been for years. Even though it wasn’t that kind of situation at all. It just feels like I made a huge grown up decision that’s been a long time coming and it’s… freeing. I’m saying goodbye to that person, that life, that time… the hurt, and the confusion, and the disrespect, and the pain, and the self-destruction of those memories. Not with him, but with the people before him… It’s like loosening my grip on a skeleton that refused to fade away, and just watching it drift away into the wind… 


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