Sometimes I don’t know what I’m feeling or thinking, but it keeps me up anyway. It’s 4am right now. My mind seems to be bouncing between regret and confusion. Looking for some sort of reasoning behind recent conversations. Which things were lies? Which things were rooted in actual feelings? Which strings of words were reaching for excuses? Which were signs of healing? I’m remaining purposely vague because everyone has been there. We replay moments and dissect words. Use your own variables.
It’s not even that I am overwhelmed or exhausted. I am just lying here, typing. Of all the things said to me today, “I hate you” was the least of my concern. There have been times since she left that I have been at the bottom of a bottle and said the same to her, only to later explain that I was angry and didn’t mean it. Today she went out of her way to say she means it, that my voice is awful. I was accused of flirting with a friend on Facebook chat and there were allusions made concerning my fidelity. I was accused of believing from the start of our relationship that we wouldn’t work out because I apparently “disabled” a dating profile, rather than “delete” it. I understand how she could misconstrue that, but it’s all bullshit. She’s reaching for reasons to hate me.
It’s funny how, after a relationship has ended, when the typical who-did-what-to-whom accusations begin, the urge to defend yourself remains. I know I may never actually see or speak to Rachel again, but across all the things she said to me today, I still had to remind her that she was the one that chose to leave. Why? Why bother indulging in any of it? Why would I go back and paint a portrait of the things I did right? Why admit that I made mistakes? When I found myself repeating these things – merely using different words – my urge to defend wilted away. I felt calm. At first I thought it was indifference. But, I’m not indifferent: I don’t want her to hate me and I don’t want there to be bad blood. It’s acceptance. Yes, things hurt sometimes; things remind me of her, and things remind me of my own mistakes. But, the fact is, she is gone and I messed up a lot. I may never speak to her again – and what the hell can I do about it? Sometimes all you can do is shrug.
I don’t mean to make light of it. But, you can’t change someone else’s reasoning. We all do things that make very little sense at one time or another in order to cope. Only when we pass those moments can we be honest about them. But, initially we allow ourselves the courtesy of anger and lashing out because the initial impact of realizing we made a mistake strikes hard at our pride.
Even now, writing this, I’m wondering how much of what I’ve said here is bullshit. Is this calm for real? Do I honestly accept that it’s over? I have staved off the childish notions: toying with throwing out the things she left behind, blocking her phone number, emails and screen names; but I have also indulged in a few. Being accused of not being 100% committed sucks – as does being accused of emotional infidelity. I want to respond, but I see that urge as childish and useless. I’m trying to ignore it.
The last thing we spoke about concerned something she said to a friend of mine – that she was using wanting to go back to NJ as an excuse. “An excuse for what?” she asked. I didn’t answer. I didn’t see a point in saying it a third time. I put down my phone and went to the gym.