This is all a lot more difficult than I imagined it would be, than I anticipated it to be. I was hoping for flawless, seamless transition. In fact, the fact that all of our old haunts were here never really crossed my mind. I didn't realize that I would still be seeing him at every turn, because for me, he never existed in Iowa. I got to move on and pretend it was nothing but a memory. I thought that I was mostly okay, that the guilt and sadness had given way to relief, but I was so wrong.
Having to drive past the outlet malls, driving past Vista Way and seeing the parking lot. Driving past Denny's, IHOP, Steak & Shake, Ale House. Walking through the TTC. Seeing all of the places where he used to be, where we used to be, it hurts me. I can only imagine how it was for him. I can never know the difference it would have made in my life if I could go back and change anything. It's an infinite loop of what-ifs and timelines. Maybe some day I'll know, maybe something out there knows now.
How do I move on? How do I stop feeling guilty? I cannot stop, I try and I cannot stop feeling so terribly responsible for every bad thing. I hurt him, and he didn't deserve it. He was the furthest thing from deserving and I destroyed him. He was devastated. Just like me. I never wanted anyone to feel as broken and empty as Noah left me, and less than a year later and I caused the same damage. I'm so scared to be with anyone else for fear. Fear of hurting them, fear of being hurt. But I am so lonely. I miss having someone to confide in, someone who is always on my side. Someone who will push me onward to be better, someone to share myself with.
I made such a terrible mistake. If only I had just listened to him, if I had not dug in my heels. He used to say that I made him love me, as if that were a good thing, but now I am not so sure. He was hurt from before and I pushed and forced my way in. He said before I left that I helped to heal him from that, but I certainly had to only leave a bigger hole afterwards.
"A year from now, this will look entirely different to you."
It certainly does, but not in the way he imagined when he said that. I feel such deep regret and guilt for hurting him. I wouldn't change a single day spent with him, but I would change every second of hurt if it meant I had to give those moments up. I want the perfect time before I left back, why wouldn't I just it be perfect? I still love him, I care for him. I got scared and I ran, and I wonder if he had just fought for me if things would have been different still. But he let me go because he still believed it was what was best and that I was fickle and young and wild.
When will my heart stop hurting? When will I stop feeling so guilty? How do I ever make this right? He will never trust me again, he can't. He made that very clear. So knowing that, why is it not easier to move on? Why do I want to cling tighter to hope that things can be okay when they never will be?
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
Flapper Girl
I am struggling.
With how I look, with what I've done.
I cut off my hair this week in an impulsive moment. In a moment lacking self-control, I went to the salon and had them cut off my long hair that I have worked for 2 years to grow back. That I have been working seriously on since Noah left me. Why am I so heartbroken over my hair? Why am I so dissatisfied with a look I have previously had and enjoyed? Why does it feel like I've lost my identity in a few short clips? Looking into the future is daunting as I know just how long it takes to grow this out, and just how many awkward phases I have to go through first.
"Hey, at least I didn't get a tattoo I would regret!" I joke, trying to make it better. But even that certainly would have been better, a more welcome change. In fact, I spent the same amount of money on this haircut as I would have on a potential new small tattoo, all because I was impulsive and unprepared. I long for the sting and the pain of that needle putting new ink into my skin. I want to hurt because I deserve it sometimes. I want to grit my teeth feel the vibrations throughout my body, wash tenderly, and feel the welts.
I look in the mirror and the reflection refuses to show what I feel inside. Inside, I am confident and happy. I am bursting at the seams from the excitement of the unknown. Deep inside, I am beautiful and bad-ass and I love who I am most days because I know that I am unique. So then, if those truths are buried so deep, how is it that they don't grow more roots. How am I so easily convinced that I am unworthy of love and joy. How can I look at myself in the mirror of my car in the parking lot, tears welling in my eyes, telling myself out loud that I'm ugly, disgusting, and that I don't belong? How can those words feel like truth and instead of stinging, they sink in comfortably?
I cannot forgive myself for the wrong things I've done. As hard as I try, I cannot stop feeling guilty for hurting him and I honestly don't know that I ever will. There will be no second chance, not only because he is a smart man with smart friends who will protect him, but also because I cannot allow it. I could not bear to hurt him again, as I am bound to do. I don't know where I am going, but I am almost certainly not bound to Florida for the rest of my life, and I am not ready to settle. I miss companionship; I long to be intimate with a person and feel deeply cared for. If I had one more day to relive that night at the Hangar, one more evening like the one at Prato. I cannot stop thinking of the laughter and how comfortable I was, how happy he made me, and then suddenly, like a fire without oxygen, it was snuffed out. There wasn't another to tempt me, it was simply my own fears.
I cry and I remain sad and I cannot forgive myself because all of it could have been possible if I had been patient. This will forever be the ultimate example of my desires winning out over my logic. Hair will grow back, tattoos will fade, physical pain will recede, but a human heart cannot forget when it has been broken. I will forever have the moment when I broke two hearts because of my own selfish pursuits. I will always have that to look upon and remember that my actions don't just effect me. I don't think I will ever forgive myself, and maybe I shouldn't, because God-forbid I forgive and forger and then do this again. I had fair warning, I had enough signs. I should have known better and yet I forged ahead. I should always be reminded of my callous behavior, even if I never had mal-intent.
I know that he wants me to be brave and true and resolute, but I don't know that it has done either of us any good. I can't find it in my heart to be something that once hurt him. When I see myself in the mirror I see someone who does not deserve to feel that deep love again, because I was not responsible enough before. Looks will fade, they can be manipulated with time and technology, but your true self cannot be hidden behind a lens.
With how I look, with what I've done.
I cut off my hair this week in an impulsive moment. In a moment lacking self-control, I went to the salon and had them cut off my long hair that I have worked for 2 years to grow back. That I have been working seriously on since Noah left me. Why am I so heartbroken over my hair? Why am I so dissatisfied with a look I have previously had and enjoyed? Why does it feel like I've lost my identity in a few short clips? Looking into the future is daunting as I know just how long it takes to grow this out, and just how many awkward phases I have to go through first.
"Hey, at least I didn't get a tattoo I would regret!" I joke, trying to make it better. But even that certainly would have been better, a more welcome change. In fact, I spent the same amount of money on this haircut as I would have on a potential new small tattoo, all because I was impulsive and unprepared. I long for the sting and the pain of that needle putting new ink into my skin. I want to hurt because I deserve it sometimes. I want to grit my teeth feel the vibrations throughout my body, wash tenderly, and feel the welts.
I look in the mirror and the reflection refuses to show what I feel inside. Inside, I am confident and happy. I am bursting at the seams from the excitement of the unknown. Deep inside, I am beautiful and bad-ass and I love who I am most days because I know that I am unique. So then, if those truths are buried so deep, how is it that they don't grow more roots. How am I so easily convinced that I am unworthy of love and joy. How can I look at myself in the mirror of my car in the parking lot, tears welling in my eyes, telling myself out loud that I'm ugly, disgusting, and that I don't belong? How can those words feel like truth and instead of stinging, they sink in comfortably?
I cannot forgive myself for the wrong things I've done. As hard as I try, I cannot stop feeling guilty for hurting him and I honestly don't know that I ever will. There will be no second chance, not only because he is a smart man with smart friends who will protect him, but also because I cannot allow it. I could not bear to hurt him again, as I am bound to do. I don't know where I am going, but I am almost certainly not bound to Florida for the rest of my life, and I am not ready to settle. I miss companionship; I long to be intimate with a person and feel deeply cared for. If I had one more day to relive that night at the Hangar, one more evening like the one at Prato. I cannot stop thinking of the laughter and how comfortable I was, how happy he made me, and then suddenly, like a fire without oxygen, it was snuffed out. There wasn't another to tempt me, it was simply my own fears.
I cry and I remain sad and I cannot forgive myself because all of it could have been possible if I had been patient. This will forever be the ultimate example of my desires winning out over my logic. Hair will grow back, tattoos will fade, physical pain will recede, but a human heart cannot forget when it has been broken. I will forever have the moment when I broke two hearts because of my own selfish pursuits. I will always have that to look upon and remember that my actions don't just effect me. I don't think I will ever forgive myself, and maybe I shouldn't, because God-forbid I forgive and forger and then do this again. I had fair warning, I had enough signs. I should have known better and yet I forged ahead. I should always be reminded of my callous behavior, even if I never had mal-intent.
I know that he wants me to be brave and true and resolute, but I don't know that it has done either of us any good. I can't find it in my heart to be something that once hurt him. When I see myself in the mirror I see someone who does not deserve to feel that deep love again, because I was not responsible enough before. Looks will fade, they can be manipulated with time and technology, but your true self cannot be hidden behind a lens.
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