Picking up from yesterday –
When relationships [or “situationships,” or whatever you want to call them] end, I do my best to end them in nice ways.
[E.g. I vividly remember “goodbye night” with the man I loved, when I had to leave for New York. I told him it was one of the 10 best nights of my life, and I meant that. I gave him handwritten copies of some of my very favorite journal entries about the most wonderful stuff we’d shared. And we laughed so much. It was really beautiful.]
Unfortunately, obviously, not every relationship has ended that way… There’s been at least once where I maybe sort of overreacted, and made a fool of myself… But thankfully, after some time passed, that person and I buried the hatchet.
In all of my past relationships, even if we don’t stay super best friends, I’m used to at least leaving on terms of like if I see them at a party, I won’t be uncomfortable. Most likely, we will even chat… Or if I see something that reminds me of them, I will smile when I walk past Domino’s and remember how much he loved it, or whatever. And I will think about how happy I hope he is now… And I will have a moment of thankfulness for the time we spent together and I nostalgically keep walking.
And I’m almost angry that that has been taken away from me – that ability to think, “we really cared about each other, I hope they’re doing so well.”
I don’t want to lose that, but I also don’t know that I every want to feel that way about this person. [And I kind of doubt I could.] I think I’ve said my goal is too merely feel apathy for them. But man, oh man, I haaaaaaaaaaate the idea of “having an ex,” like a person you feel icky about and, ugh, I just don’t know. Blegh. End of post.
[For more on the sexual assault series, you can go here.]