This post is in addition to the one I posted last night. I did a quick recap of where I left off in life, and where I am. In this post, I hope to further explain where I am in life, and hopefully clear some thoughts up in my own mind. Let's start from the break up.
Me and my ex broke up about two weeks into December. It had killed me to do it, but I had to end it. It sucked even more to ruin the holidays for the both of us, but I couldn't go into a new apartment with the feelings I had. I had held it in as long as I could, but I had to set myself free. Not only me, but him, too. Staying in that relationship would have meant deceiving him. It would have meant keeping him from finding who he was supposed to be with. It was keeping him in something that was going no where fast.
Like I said, it killed me to have to do it. I had to take a lot into account. I had to think about how it would make me feel, make him feel, the apartment, our Christmas presents, our families, our relationship as a whole, etc. I think at first, what hurt most was that I couldn't explain how I felt to him and he had to go off of whatever I could say in the moment. I hated to think that he thought I was just being selfish and did this all for myself. I actually even wrote a letter beforehand. It was a peculiar writing. It was addressed to both him and myself at the same time. In it, I explained how I was feeling, and what I might want to say to him. The letter hit all of the points I ever wanted it to. All the way to the nitty gritty parts. It allowed me to explain to him as best I could in that moment, however, it was far from done.
The whole night, we spent crying and fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day rolled around and I got up early, still in disbelief of what I had just done and of my new reality. I managed to keep myself together when I got to my parents house and explained to them what happened. Thankfully, my parents have come a long way. I remember just blurt in it out to my mom because I knew if I didn't say it as soon as I saw her, I wasn't going to be able to do it. She and I sat down for a while and I explained everything to her and what I was going to do next. She totally understood and was even proud of me for making the decision that I had made. Most people don't have the courage or maturity to do what I did and therefore end up in terrible falling outs. Thankfully, I ended things before they had gotten that far.
I was petrified to tell my father. We hadn't talked much about being gay after I had moved out. He had been around my ex, but it was never spoken about. I kind of preferred it that way; if it wasn't brought up, there was no potential for dirty looks or snide comments. However, this was different. We had a very grown up man to man talk. Kind of like the father son talk I always imagined having. We talked and I explained to him what happened and he, too, was proud of me.
After the visit to the parental units, I went to go see my brother, and best friend, Brian. He had been aware that this night was coming, so it came as no shock to him. I explained what happened and I remained calm for the most part. He had actually told me I had been handling it very well. I think that was the breaking point for me. I couldn't believe how I might have seemed. How could I be okay after what I had just done? How could I even muster a smile when my ex was probably at home crying his eyes out. I think I tried to explain what happened once I read the letter and I lost it.
For a while, me and my ex still lived together. Probably about two and a half weeks. Those had to be two of the worst weeks I had experienced since coming out to my parents. Everytime I had tried to talk to my ex, all I got was attitude and one word answers. I was constantly trying to make sure that he was okay and see what he was thinking. I knew what he was thinking. He was hurt. He was angry. He was confused. One day he thought we were fine. The next, I wanted to break up with him.
I knew I had to give him space, so I tried to keep myself busy and out of the apartment so he had time to think and such. I still had trouble letting go of passed habits and it caused a lot of anamosity out of him. I continued to use nicknames and wanted to text him, but he made it very clear to me that those actions were not allowed. Therefore, I decided I just had to suck it up.
I thought I had to endure the pain he inflicted on me. I thought I deserved it. Someone who did what I did didn't deserve to be happy or even deserve his forgiveness and friendship. For a while I let him walk over me and let those thoughts linger in my head, but soon enough, I learned better. I knew that I did nothing wrong. I was a good person. I did what I did out of love and to let love continue somewhere else. I didn't deserve the way he was treating me, and now I was standing up against that.
I think the last straw was when he wanted to split up the possessions. I had been trying to have any kind of conversation with him for days, but he would ignore me and shut me out all the time. I think I was already a wee bit peeved with him for some reason, but I left to go get a haircut, to then have him call me back to split the stuff up. At this point, I was livid. I remember storming back to the apartment furious and he just looked so smug. It looked as if he knew I was infuriated, and this was his way of getting under my skin. I'm sure that wasn't his intention, but in that moment, he could have fooled me.
He was going down this list that he had put together and he was just going down as if he couldn't wait to have this over with and leave. I was so infutiated, it didn't matter to me what he had took. He could have taken everything in the place, and I wouldn't have stopped him because I believed I deserved it and that this was the end of it between us. From that moment on, I wasn't taking anymore of his shit.
Probably a week after that, he and our previous neighbor decided they were ready to move him in. I was at work and did not know this conversation had happened. As far as I knew, he wasn't moving I to the other apartment until the beginning of the year. While I was at work, he decided he would move his stuff out, assuming that he had hoped to be done before I got here. I came home to him, his sister, and her friends helping him move and my possessions all over the place.
At this point, infuriated was an understatement. I was hurt. Truly hurt. I felt betrayed, and I felt insulted. I couldn't believe someone whom I had spent the passed year and a half and giving him all the love I could, could do this to me. Everything up to this point. The worst part was I knew that he was capable of it. All of what previous people said about him were true. I knew it. I always did. I just figured he'd never be that way to me. But I was wrong, and now I've learned my lesson.
I probably stayed there for a good twenty minutes trying to seem calm and as if nothing was bothering me. His sister sought a moment to try to even console me. I even offered to help. After that twenty-first minute, I had to leave. I couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn't stand him any longer. I went to my parents house without telling anyone. Only my brother was there and I told him what happened. I was done.
Later that evening, my ex finally texted me to see if I was okay. Of course I lied and said, "I'm fine, not that you care." Long story short, I basically told him that I didn't deserve the way he was treating me and how much it hurt me. My ending point, "It never really matters what you think you did. Just what the other person feels like you did."
When I got home, he was in tears. I was sitting on the floor, folding the clothes that were everywhere, and basking in what was left in the apartment to be mine. What was left? Two couches (which one served as my bed), the TV stand/space heater, the kitchen utensils, and a picture of us in the bedroom that had Mr. and Mr. above it. I had literally let him take everything. It didn't matter to me. all I wanted was for him to like me. For him not to hate me. For us to be able to move passed this point.
He apologized for everything that he had done in the passed few weeks. He had treated me like the enemy and like someone who cheated on him and threw him out on the street. He treated me as if I had done something morally wrong to him. What I did was put him first. What I did, was make a mature decision that would result in the best for us. But he didn't see that. At this point, he did. And all he could do was look at me sit on the floor and imagine how I must have felt. All he could do from that point on was remember the monster that had did that to the person he once called his true love.
Weeks had passed by of us just trying to behold each other's company. I tried to make him breakfast, and that was awkward. Everything we did was awkward, even the sex. Yeah, we did that. I'm not proud of it, but I did.
It lasted for probably all of two weeks and then I decided I did not want to continue with that arrangement. I felt dirty. I didn't feel right as a person. I felt like some hookup that was just toyed with and then tossed away. I didn't feel like someone who he had loved. I felt like another quick fuck. So I ended it.
Weeks and a couple of big boy conversations later, I had decided that I needed space. I had made it very clear that I did not any sort of sexual relationship with him, but the advances persisted, so I told him to leave me alone for a while. And in that time, I don't know that I have been the best person around towards him, but I have been who I am. For a while, I did feel like I was being a dick, but now I think I was just being honest in who I am. I am a dick. Everyone knows it. Shit, I take pride in it! I don't take it too far, but just far enough to be funny. I guess he didn't find it funny.
I don't know where to be with him right now. He wants to have a relationship with me. Just as friends, but I don't know if he can handle that. I don't know if I can handle that. We can't even get over having a guy over! I think I'm at the point where I don't care, but he is not. He still can't even stop sexually advancing on me! That's not the kind of "friend" I want. Well, maybe it is, but not out of him.
He's been sending me handwritten letters lately. Letters that explain where he's at in life and where he wants to be. I've only gotten two so far. I'm proud of him. I truly am, however, that doesn't mean that we're ready to be friends. I'm still not in the right mindset. I'm still pretty angry. I know I shouldn't be and that I shouldn't hold grudges, but I can't help it. I can't help think that he needs to quit telling me that I'm being rude and being a jerk because that's not what he was thinking when he was being that way to me. He didn't bat an eye when he was that viscous. I know it only makes me stoop down to his level, but in my eyes, I'm not. I'm being me. . . And I'm enjoying it.
I don't know where life will take us. At this point in my life, I'm only focused on having fun and being me. I've taken great pride in this whole Good Vibes thing. Good vibes equal good times. Thick guys and good vibes are the only things allowed in my life right about now. I don't think I want to stress anything else. Who knows. Only time can tell. But I can always continue to say. . .
After All This Time? Always. 💕
~Be Breezy~
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