So this is the letter I keep threatening to write, but never actually doing it. It has reared it's ugly head yet again, so here it is...
So, I am really tired and probably should get some sleep, instead I find myself mulling over the same old things, albeit in slightly revamped formats. Yes, it's the same old anxieties, just re-mixed, woooot!
And what strikes me is this- why the hell can I not just get over it?
It will be four years next week.
Four years of angst and pain and obsession. FOUR YEARS!!! And I am STILL not over it. Seriously, what the hell?
Am I over you? Yes, I think so. Although it still freaks me out when I see your doppelgangers- the most recent one being a paralympian from the Uk- but otherwise, I'm pretty cool with the fact you are no longer a part of my life. I miss my friend sometimes, however I can recognise that your absence is a much healthier option.
But the sex thing is still a total and utter fucking mess.
I still can't trust anyone worth a damn.
I still run away from any possible male interest- simply because I am too shit scared of having to deal with that whole situation. Classic example being the other night when he was clearly sussing me out and I totally blanked him. He was leaving a very clear door open for me to give him my number/organise to see him again and I was like 'Yeah bye' while inside my head runrunrunrunrunrun-nownownownow was on repeat. Thus I scuttled away like the wuss I am. Sigh.
And it's all just so STUPID. One experience has scarred me for life- literally- and the irony is that most people wouldn't even count it. (Most people also don't have the fucked up history with abuse and attempted sexual assault either, but still.)
Sometimes I wonder if you even count me. What was it to you? A fling? Does it count as a one night stand if you only have sex-sex the once and then treat them like shit the next day?
This is part of the problem see, I feel all pathetic for being so fucking damaged over what would be nothing but a blip on anyone else's radar screen, yet for me it is all of my fears and pain and anxieties centred around the one issue/experience and it is all consuming.
You broke me. Mind, body and spirit in one fell swoop. Quite impressive really, although carnage always was a talent of yours.
And now I am back in one piece, on the surface anyway, but as soon as anyone gets near me the cracks start to show and I freak out and run away before my entire world shatters, as it inevitably will.
And the thing is, I know I couldn't survive it a second time. That is why I haven't had sex in four years and have instead pushed away anyone who even came close. I couldn't handle that pain and humiliation again, it almost killed me the first time.
And people bullshit on about "finding the right person" and this is what I want to say:
Whom would this right person be, hmm? Someone you love and trust, right? Someone you know really well, yeah? Someone who loves you and looks out for you and would rather die than hurt you, yes?
Well ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the perpetrator of my misery- someone I loved and trusted with my life. Someone I had known for more than 4 years, who always took care of me and was always concerned that I was okay, turned out to also be someone who couldn't look at me afterwards. Someone who refused to ever try again and dumped me a month later. Someone who ended up with someone else that he supposedly hated, but stayed with anyway, because he could have sex with *her*. And yes, that someone did truly love me...[apparently you still do according to rumour.]
So forgive me if I think this whole 'right person' thing is a load of crap.
The right person doesn't exist. And being with a friend only means that the stakes are a thousand times higher, the situation more fraught with confusion and stress and the devastation on a more epic scale when you lose everything in the blink of an eye.
You taught me that.
And believe me, it was a lesson I learned well.
[In the words of WordsForYou]
Yup. That's pretty much it.
Happy Anniversary (for Thursday).