On letting go
Some days I don't even know where to begin with my journal. There are just so many things going on that I wouldn't know where to begin. But here I am, months since my last entry, more than a year out from the last real entry. With school done though, I have to be make an effort to put down my thoughts and feelings.
I find myself still remembering all the little details that really shaped and defines who I am, and I'm not sure if that is a bad thing. A few weeks ago, I said to the unit secretary, "Today would have been my 12 year anniversary with my first boyfriend." Of course, they don't know I have only had two boyfriends and he and my other colleague mocked me. I laughed at the ridiculousness of it too. Who the fuck still remembers an anniversary date with a person who has been out of my life for the last 5 years? Nonetheless, at 1:10 in the morning, 12 years after he asked me to be his girlfriend, that night of playing grab ass and standing outside in the dark played over in my mind. I remember it clearly. Lunch with Jaymee didn't help either as she told me about having dinner with his girlfriend's friend. Normally, I wouldn't want to hear it but I gave in, curious to how I would feel listening about a person who I think I hate.
But, silly, sentimental old me has to dig out those memories. Oh god, those haunting memories. Of his possessiveness, of his anger, of his abusiveness. How long has it been since I dreamt of him? I woke up frightened, my heart pounding in my chest at how real it seemed: Us in his car, yelling at me as I begged him to let me go. I asked Aim how it was possible that he could still have this effect on me 5 years later? She said we didn't have closure, that dating Green Eyes is "moving on," not closure. "You didn't have a clean breakup with him," she said to me.
And there lies the problem in all of this. That no matter how many years pass, how many times Green Eyes tells me he loves me, it will always remain that he and I didn't have that one last final goodbye. All this time I didn't think that it mattered if we said our goodbyes, we were angry and left it at that. But it haunts me till this day, and the memories of "June 25, 2006 at 1:10AM" forces me to think about him.
I dont't get it. I really don't. Do I hate him? Why am I thinking about him?