Friday afternoon I drafted a post about the boyfriend boxes that I make for my ex-boyfriends. I had to put a pendant that my ex gave me in California in his box so of course I looked through the whole thing. I flew through the box with ease. I dug out the t-shirts, photo albums, dried up roses, and military memorabilia and I realized that I am completely over him. I had no feeling, no rush of emotion, no anything while looking through all of it. I was almost more bothered that I had taken everything out because it all fits in there so perfectly that I’d have to figure out how to put it all back in there. Of course I got a little upset writing about it on Friday, although I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it was relief in knowing I’m totally done or maybe it was a form of sadness that we feel when we know the past is staying in the past. Maybe I feel a little guilty. I don’t know but by the end of the paragraph the moment had already passed.
I moved on to the boyfriend box from high school. This guy was back in my life for a hot minute a few weeks ago until he inspired the “Sassarella, I love you BUT…” post so you can assume things didn’t go according to plan. In his box is a stuffed animal, his old football jersey, a slinky, a big ass binder, and a few other little things. I opened up the binder, skimmed the pages, and teared up. The binder consists of 65+ pages of letters written to me over a period of time that we were apart (we broke up and got back together more times than I want to admit). There are also sections of the binder dedicated to happy times that includes pictures, hand written notes to each other, and song lyrics.
A weird combination of emotions came over me; I was sad, envious, and hopeful. I was sad because it’s not easy to think that someone who once meant a lot to you does not have the same significance in your life anymore. Additionally, and possibly even more depressing, is that you don’t have that same impact on his life anymore. I was envious of my younger self because at one time I had a guy in my life who wrote me 65+ pages apologizing for mistakes, expressing his love, and telling me how much he misses me. Despite the myriad of men in my life, including the time I spent with “my first big love,” I have yet to be with someone who is as expressive as this old boyfriend was…or is? I don’t know. Anyway, I was hopeful because despite the sadness and the envy, I was comforted knowing that at one time I was so incredibly loved. There are times when I look back and think it was just puppy love, kid stuff, whatever, and maybe it was but seeing it all written down like that I decided that I don’t really care what it was. All I care about is that it happened, it changed me, and continues to affect my relationships today.
The high school boyfriend’s box helped me realize that I was making the right decision to dump the college boyfriend. Reading the contents of the binder and even seeing the slinky that he bought me just because I mentioned in conversation that I used to love them, showed me that attentive and caring guys are out there. I didn’t see it as breaking up with the college guy to get back with the high school guy but like I said, it reminded me of how I should be treated.
So what inspired the “Sassarella, I love you BUT…” post? Well we test it out and back away over and over. We come home over the summer or over a holiday, run into each other, have a good time, and mistake it for the possibility of a relationship. Let’s not pretend to be something we’re not.
I wrote a post awhile back about how I am a fool. I’m so involved, so passionate, and I guess I gotta throw stubborn in there when it comes to love that simply saying something is over doesn’t quite get the job done for me. I need to actually see it break to believe it, accept it, and move on. I needed the blow out fight with Roller Coaster to finally understand that this was not right for me and I guess something similar needed to happen with this guy, who I’ll call Bob.
Friday night I saw Bob for the first time since
we he decided that “giving us another shot” was not going to work. I was already about 85 sheets to the wind which set up a pretty disastrous situation at the bar. The conversation started off really well and I was telling him about the post I had drafted about his box. I was telling him about how despite what I said about not being able to be his friend that I was wrong. I wanted to be his friend because I have never been more myself than I am with him. I can be happy, sad, bitchy, nice, anything and he will always listen and appreciate me for who I am. However, somehow the conversation turned into him explaining to me again why giving us another shot right now is not what he wants.
I had a mini melt down. I was saying things that I know aren’t even true and was being pretty g.d. dramatic. Shocking, right? The girls and I finally decided to just leave the bar and go to a different one that we always go to. Who shows up after us? The guys. Like wtf, leave me and my tequila alone. Not only do they show up but they walk by us and stand five feet away rather than with us or no where near us. Bob is also now texting me from across the room about some of the things I had said at the first bar and about the guys I was now dancing with at the second bar. Clearly, it was going to be impossible to end the night with any shred of dignity.
I take total responsibility for my appalling behavior but I’m not appreciative of the fact that seeing the state of mind and emotions that I was in that he didn’t just leave me alone. I was being irrational, I get it, but what is this? Some kind of screwed up pay back or karma or a “see this is how it feels, Christie” sorta thing? Ughh. Bob also didn’t know that when I looked down at my phone, I saw things that made me even more upset. I had a text from Roller Coaster, a text from Cheetah, a text from the ex I saw in California, and a Facebook message from a Gorilla King. I was at a total breaking point. GET ME OUT OF HERE. In one night I was bombarded by multiple past relationships, past failures, and unhealthy guys in my life. I wanted to cry and I did.
Although my own behavior was completely uncalled for, I did hear and learn lessons about the specific situation with Bob. I learned that things I’ve said and done in the past to hurt him have really resonated with him. Like I said, I am completely myself with him which I can see now backfired a bit. I was at times brutally honest and while in those moments he told me he was appreciative of my honesty, I know now that they still affect him. I understand completely because I am the same way. What’s ironic is that years ago we failed partly because the mistakes he made were ones that I could forgive but not forget. I could never fully trust that he wasn’t going to just wake up one day and decide he wanted to be broken up with me. And now the tables have turned. Funny, isn’t it? Hilarious.
Let’s not pretend to be something we’re not. Let’s not pretend that you are okay with some of the shitty things I have done and said to you. Let’s not pretend that just because I am completely myself with you means that I should be with you. Clearly my lack of a brain filter does not equate to me having full concern for your feelings at all possible times. I am sorry for the way I behaved, it won’t happen again, and I think we both need to take this as an indication that neither of us will ever be able to get passed our past together. I’d also like to add that tequila does crazy things to a person.
Anyway, Saturday night kicked a$s. Lauren and I went to New York City and bounced around from 1 Republik to 230 Fifth to Social and everywhere in between. The next morning on the train home we noted that the night was amazingly fantastic because of the lack of men involved. Rather, the lack of men we already know and have history with. Our legs were so sore from dancing, our heads were pounding from the vodka, and my heart was beating even more heavily to the thought of California. Get me out of here, please and thank you.
Sassarella Says…don’t do something permanently stupid just because you’re temporarily upset. Fight that tequila, listen to your friends who are trying to save you, and re-group. I know that most of what happened on Friday was due to the environment and the tornado of other factors on my cell phone. I hope that permanent damage isn’t done with Bob because I still think that in some sick and twisted way that we are good friends. We’ve been through a lot and given time I’d like to be able to have a good relationship with him. See you in Cal, Bob.