Have you ever touched something and, without looking, known it was broken?
Last night Simon called, again.
It started online.
It's my fault for answering the phone, for not having turned it off in the first place. You you must know that he's so hard to understand in general, let alone when he's typing. He's too poor a typist to communicate effectively, often spelling words wrong, leaving them out entirely or piecing together sentences incomprehensibly. I wonder too often if he's lying, being sarcastic, making a lighthearted joke, or just being cruel...
And so I was caught up in the words he said. And so I was drowning in the incomprehensible guilt he somehow manages to make me feel...
He said I was The First, but he'd wanted me to be The Only, and so he hates me
That I was supposed to have been the mother of his children, and so he hates me.
He asked again and again why he still calls me, and thinks about me everyday.
He said I broke his heart, and so he hates me.
He said I still have so much power over him, and so he hates me.
He said everything he is and will be is because of me.
He said every song he plays he plays for two girls, but he will never play for me again.
He kept going on about how he needs to end up with a girl like me.
About how he's dating an Irish girl who hates me passionately and how, were I to ever meet her face to face, she'd attack me viciously.
When I asked why, what threat I possibly could pose, he responded that I will always be the biggest threat. And then,
"I'm sorry. I have wanted you. You are the girl that has inspired all this, all me."
I don't get it. I just don't. I'm reeling still and, right after the fact, I was shuddering convulsively.
We dated from the close cusp of my 15th birthday for about a year and a half. Broke up long before the age of 17. When we'd still fight in circles and he'd cry. When I'd kick the door shut after he ran out of the classroom, no matter who was watching.
We were kids. So young... Is he quite serious? Did he really think it would last? Did he really negate every subsequent relationship in his mind to make it insignificant in comparison? Does he really hold me up on such a pedestal?
The good news is that I gained a radical new perspective from the exchange. I was suddenly guilt stricken at all the attention I'd demanded from Owen, all the jealousy I'd targeted at him. After my awful, confusing conversation with Simon, I felt all the more certain that I was in fact capable of being a rational human being. Of living the virtues of grace and maturity I hold in such high esteem. I'm thinking that, on a romantic, emotional level, I can let him--Owen--I can let him go.
Oh Simon! I want a world in which you will send me pictures of the places you've been and say, "Hey, if you're ever in London, stop by to see my perform at X venue and we'll grab a pint at X pub when I'm done." A world in which we can smile knowingly at one another, ask about the folks, laugh about old times. Part with a fond hug and a kiss on the cheek, amicable. Sane.
Is that so much to ask?
Is it??
It started online.
It's my fault for answering the phone, for not having turned it off in the first place. You you must know that he's so hard to understand in general, let alone when he's typing. He's too poor a typist to communicate effectively, often spelling words wrong, leaving them out entirely or piecing together sentences incomprehensibly. I wonder too often if he's lying, being sarcastic, making a lighthearted joke, or just being cruel...
And so I was caught up in the words he said. And so I was drowning in the incomprehensible guilt he somehow manages to make me feel...
He said I was The First, but he'd wanted me to be The Only, and so he hates me
That I was supposed to have been the mother of his children, and so he hates me.
He asked again and again why he still calls me, and thinks about me everyday.
He said I broke his heart, and so he hates me.
He said I still have so much power over him, and so he hates me.
He said everything he is and will be is because of me.
He said every song he plays he plays for two girls, but he will never play for me again.
He kept going on about how he needs to end up with a girl like me.
About how he's dating an Irish girl who hates me passionately and how, were I to ever meet her face to face, she'd attack me viciously.
When I asked why, what threat I possibly could pose, he responded that I will always be the biggest threat. And then,
"I'm sorry. I have wanted you. You are the girl that has inspired all this, all me."
I don't get it. I just don't. I'm reeling still and, right after the fact, I was shuddering convulsively.
We dated from the close cusp of my 15th birthday for about a year and a half. Broke up long before the age of 17. When we'd still fight in circles and he'd cry. When I'd kick the door shut after he ran out of the classroom, no matter who was watching.
We were kids. So young... Is he quite serious? Did he really think it would last? Did he really negate every subsequent relationship in his mind to make it insignificant in comparison? Does he really hold me up on such a pedestal?
The good news is that I gained a radical new perspective from the exchange. I was suddenly guilt stricken at all the attention I'd demanded from Owen, all the jealousy I'd targeted at him. After my awful, confusing conversation with Simon, I felt all the more certain that I was in fact capable of being a rational human being. Of living the virtues of grace and maturity I hold in such high esteem. I'm thinking that, on a romantic, emotional level, I can let him--Owen--I can let him go.
Oh Simon! I want a world in which you will send me pictures of the places you've been and say, "Hey, if you're ever in London, stop by to see my perform at X venue and we'll grab a pint at X pub when I'm done." A world in which we can smile knowingly at one another, ask about the folks, laugh about old times. Part with a fond hug and a kiss on the cheek, amicable. Sane.
Is that so much to ask?
Is it??