A Bittersweet Memory
Sometimes, I wish I could live through all of my now past experiences and be able to remember them without a twinge of shame, or embarrassment, or regret over what was lost.
My family, Chris and I ran into Ivan at Best Buy not too long ago. I didn't see him or try to look at him, I just took my family's word for it that he was there and that he saw me. I was too afraid to look at him. In fact, I felt icky and just wanted to leave. When we got home, I felt a twinge of depression which soon went away.
I've never been able to analyze what happened with Ivan and put it to rest. I just buried it in the back of my mind because I wasn't ready to deal with it. I also literally could not deal with it because I was with that creep, Cesar, for five months immediately following the demise of my relationship with Ivan, and Cesar wouldn't let me do so much as pick up Ivan's phone calls, let alone analyze what happened.
Did I love Ivan, really love him? I still don't know. Sometimes I think I did, sometimes I'm sure I never did. It was a strange relationship in the sense that we were both together as a result of not being able to be with the people we really wanted to be with. Ivan was my rebound, and I was second-best to him. We were a misfit match made in Heaven.
Of course, I will be forever thankful for his patience and endurance in our relationship. In many ways I was not well, having to deal with an unchecked mental illness and the repercussions of having to live in a dysfunctional home for 11 years. But in many ways, I was not ready for Ivan. He was about three years older than I, a big difference when you're on the cusp of adulthood at 17 years of age. I was immature, explosive in temperament, selfish and bratty. But in many ways, Ivan was just what I needed at the time. He was my rock, my best friend, someone who was there no matter what I said or broke or raged about in my immature and ill mind.
My fondest memories of Ivan are not necessarily romantic. They're all about going to Boomers, or looking at each other with that crazy look that no one else understood, or taking midnight "naps" and doing "feets" before we fell asleep.
I still don't quite understand why he got so hostile with me at the end, leaving me high and dry with my roommate my freshman year of college when he'd promised to take us out, or when he wouldn't call me on purpose, or when he started fighting with my mother. Maybe it's because he resented me and everything I put him through with my illness? Or maybe it's because he wasn't ready for me as well? We did, after all, make many mistakes.
All I know is that it's over and we're not even on speaking terms. I wish we weren't. I just wish he knew how sorry I was about everything I put him through. I wish he knew that I tried to be good to him and did as best as I could have. I wish he knew that sometimes I still check his MySpace to make sure he's okay or if he's single. I don't know how I will react when he finds someone, because I guess I'm afraid of being replaced in his heart and memories.
Sometimes, I wish I could message him on MySpace and try to resume a friendship of sorts. Maybe it's what I need to do, or maybe he's better left alone. I don't know. I just know the wound that is Ivan's Memory has been festering in my mind and heart for too long now.
It's time to put it to rest.