You don’t need a guy that wanted you back, you deserve a guy who’d never let you go. – J.B.

(note: this post was updated after it was written.)

I work in a very special branch of the employment pool. I read article after article and claim after claim of people’s feelings getting hurt, and perhaps? It’s made me more cynical, or less touchy I used to be about making sure everyone’s getting hugged and blown at equal intervals for their own happiness. I’m kinda over that. (See what working in Fraud and Litigation does to you?) I am still the first one to offer a heartfelt apology, (if it’s warrantied,) but some situations deserve none.

I’ll give you an example. If I acted in a manner that was disrespectful to myself and those I stated that I loved, I wouldn’t expect to be welcomed at the very next family function with the usual glee. I probably? Might throw an apology down and try to stay out of everyone’s way- because sometimes? No matter how much you apologize? The hurt is much deeper than words could ever mend. I think this is why he didn’t understand that lying, and pain- it sinks itself into you. It’s almost like a tumor. When you tell a lie, it resonates within the other person, it causes doubt about everything, and then? When you lie about lying, the tumor explodes. It touches everything that was- it stains and spoils- it corrupts. To the person that spoke it? It’s a mistake of the mouth working faster than the head. But to me? It’s a choice. I told him in the beginning- do whatever you want, just tell the truth about it. He’s lied so much, it’s hard to keep it straight. (“I never said we were dating, I said it was potential. I never said we did much, I just said we messed around. I couldn’t ever date her, we’re just friends.) Sometimes- the things we tell each other are just the lies we tell ourselves. I can see his side- I don’t think he threw away everything because he was stupid, or that he didn’t realize the value- I think he threw it away because it’s what he felt was right. How someone can find right in what he did after? I have no idea. But I strongly believe- there’s good in everyone, even at their worst moments, mainly for my own benefit.

He asked me to take the comments down. I suppose if she knew this existed, she might be hurt. I thought about it, and grew concerned that at 18, my own psyche probably couldn’t handle online banishment. But then again- maybe I don’t give her enough credit- if she’s truly the adult she wants to be then she’ll see the humanism in those words, and I’ll say, “I’m sorry,” and she can say sorry for chasing him while we were still together, and he can say sorry for being a pathetic asshole. Sometimes pain, and the feeling of seeing someone you loved leave for a younger, weirder version- is blinding. Othertimes, anger takes over, as you realize that the truths you lived in were just another well-orchestrated lie. In either case, I’m a bitch, there’s beauty in everyone. It’s not that she was disastrous in the facial sense, I saw her desperation and his desperation to forget- the ugliest feature of all. If you ever read this- I hope you prove them wrong. I always said- if I was you? I might have done the same thing.

But she has hindsight I don’t. He cheated on me. (He’ll claim he didn’t- but publically sending 21 year old girls ‘smooches’ online the day we cooked dinner together and took Ava out… that’s cheating. And how many others were there- he was always on his computer for work, or to talk to his friends. I went to bed early a lot- and he stayed up. I wonder how far everything went. The seed of doubt can be so miniscule, and on May 28th-I never knew I had one. I just knew I loved the man in the next room, and that tomorrow, we’d wake up together. Where are the women his age? Why is he only going for teenage to 21 year old women? I can’t comprehend this. Is it an emotional capacity thing? 

We had a fight once, when I had cleaned the house after coming home from seeing my parents and finding out my godmother had a stroke. I was tired, and folded his laundry, the size 46 pants, and the worn out socks. I asked him to bring the laundry up and he said, “That’s a small task that you can handle.” And that, was that. He was on his computer and watching tv. The night he posted kisses for all the internet to see, I was told to bring his laundry up myself- I remember this clearly now. I climbed into bed that night, we had a fight- it was the beginning of the end. I knew this, but I didn’t want to believe. The next day, I had planned to pick up the concert tickets- that I bought for Death Cab. Can you believe I called Cities 97, and wrote them a letter that said: 

Subject: :) Please Read? Death Cab Question

Comments: (I know.. I know.) How many requests have you had for tickets,
right? You\’re giving them away, I\’m listening like I always do, and
just can\’t manage to be that lucky winner.

The thing is, (no sob story here,) but… my boyfriend? Loves Death Cab
for Cutie. I know a million people can claim to love this band, (what\’s
not to love.) If I could express to you, the amazing things he\’s done
for me- and the support he\’s given me and my toddler- I could. I also
love Death Cab. We looked and looked after we found out they were
coming, and with my 2.5 year old, money was tight and we tried to wait..
but unfortunately- it slipped our mind. I know you probably might not
have extra tickets, (or even one extra ticket.) But if you did, do you
think you could consider sending him?
My daughter and I fell in love with him- and he\’s welcomed us into his
life with amazing arms. He\’s there to pick up my little one if I\’m
working late, or to help make dinner- for the first time in my life- I
have a family. I write him thank you\’s and we tell each other how much
we love each other- we\’re even talking about marriage. I wish there was
something I could say, to impress the impact his presence has had on my
life in this short while.

I\’ll call the station, I\’ll wear something ridiculous in the streets
and shout.. I LOVE CITIES 97! (I do.) :) -In fact, I\’m a proud member
of your frequent listeners club and have been for a while.
I\’ll dance around at work. (I work at Target Corporation in downtown
Minneapolis.) I\’ll sing with a horrible voice on the air, and I\’ll
process my love for Ben Gibbard\’s amazing lyrics… anything- just to
send someone who whole-heartfully deserves to go- to this show. If you
have even one ticket- could you send him? :) He would… LOVE going.

On one of our first dates he played, \”follow you into the dark,\” on
his guitar and as much as the song makes me cry- I\’ve never felt so
completely blessed.

I would happily stay home and watch my toddler, and just smile knowing
he could enjoy it. He could afford to go, you see- but he spent the
money on house stuff, and diapers.. and things that I normally just
bought by myself.

No matter what- thanks for the opportunities to win, (I\’ll keep
playing!) :) And for the chance to hear GOOD music in the twin cities.

(Thanks for reading.)

They sent him an autographed poster, and I ended up using some money I had saved up, from not seeing any of my friends, (sans one night with Esquire,) in two months, and bought tickets. He was so excited when the poster and things arrived. I had thought that I had finally shown him how wonderful he was, and how much I cared. I sacrificed for nothing.

I changed this paragraph- as I promise often not to do. I changed it because the overwhelming urge to throw up, was more gripping than any words of wisdom I’d ever had. 

Life is cyclical, not static- I’m reminded this, now.

What if I hadn’t left, I ask myself. Would I have experienced what I have, and looked myself in the eye? Would I have met the people that I know now, and the circle that’s been built- something I’ve really been blessed with. When someone is in pain, or anger, like an animal that thinks it’s trapped- it’s unhelpable until it realizes that there are no walls, no chains- there is nothing holding it down except it’s own fear. In my case? It was a fear of not being loved, or being forgotten. I know now? Maybe to my own detriment- that will not happen. Friends look on and shake their heads- they want you to realize, “He’s not worth it! Why does it matter?” And ironically, for moments? It matters like nothing else. You breathe the issue, you experience paralysis to the outside world, and you stall your own life trying to figure out something that… doesn’t matter. We get to the point where we look around with everything else hanging in the air- almost in mid-function, and the words it doesn’t matter, reminds you of everything suspended. You breathe- your shoulders move up, and you begin typing the last thought you ever think you’ll type about it. The beauty of being human, is our faults- the fault to love unconditionally, the fault of pointing fingers, and the fault to see that if he fell in love with the statue of liberty, it wouldn’t mean that we were less because we are not made of rods and stone. It means, that the beauty of who we are lies only in within ourselves- it’s not comparable, it’s not interchangeable- we are perfectly imperfect. I would never be  forever 21 in his eyes-  a collegiate  that wouldn’t dare criticize, or ask anything of him. Just someone that stood in awe.

I’m ashamed.