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Between the Raindrops

Today was a weird day for my emotions. I woke up this morning missing my Grandma Carol terribly. The one memory that stands out the most to me (and has been playing in my head over and over again today) is when me and my Grams and Grandpa took her out to eat at a seafood restaurant one evening. It was about four months before she died, and about three weeks before she had her stroke that paralyzed her. I remember my boyfriend (at the time) and I riding in the front of his Jeep Liberty, my grandma was in the back seat. The windows were rolled down and we were blaring “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”. I remember looking back at her and laughing while she was tapping her foot and singing the lyrics. The wind was blowing her salt and (mostly) pepper hair back, the sun was shining on her face, she was sober, and she looked …. free. She was smiling. 

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That’s my Grandma and my Mom. This was back when I thought my family was finally coming together. I had asked my grandma to move in with me so I could take care of her, my mom was staying with us a lot – we were all together. 

I ordered Catfish for grandma that night (she couldn’t read very well) and I think it was the last time she ate seafood. That memory was sucker-punching me this morning over and over again to the point that I was nearly sobbing by the time I got to work. 

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This was after she had her stroke and was paralyzed on her left side. She shot me the bird to prove her right side was working just fine. 

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She maintained such a funny, cheerful personality despite everything she went through. 

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She was an amazing woman. This was taken four days before she passed. 

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65 years old. It hardly seems fair. 

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and then she was gone. 

It was hard to imagine my charismatic, hell-raising, slightly racist grandma in that casket. I’d never hear her voice again (except for that one time in my dream when she told me she was okay), she’d never cook for me again, I’d never be able to tell her my problems and her give me the wise wisdom of “Piss on it. If you can’t piss on it, shit on it. If you can’t shit on it, fuck it all.” She’ll never call me a lazy ass for using the potato peeler instead of the knife. All that I have left is what I remember. And my memories can never do her justice. She was so much bigger than a memory. 

Plus, with my birthday coming up, I always remember her calling and leaving me a voicemail singing happy birthday, and then at the end she said “This will be the last time I ever get to sing happy birthday to you. I love you.” And she was right. She knew she was dying. We were all hanging on and she was slipping away.

Also, last night I had a dream (or more like remembered) the day after Thanksgiving when I came home from the soup kitchen and Andy had already packed all of his belongings and moved. In my dream (which was just as it happened), I opened the door and saw my empty living room. I went downstairs and saw all of the boxes gone, his clothes, an empty closet, until I stumbled my way into the bathroom to see all of his things gone and I crumpled into a heap on the floor and sobbed until I crawled into the bed and passed out. I woke up this morning more exhausted than when I went to sleep. It was bad enough living that shit through the first time, it just flat-out sucked having to dream about it. 

I really thought he would have left me a note or something. Some kind of something for me to hang on to. Something that told me he really gave a shit – but that he didn’t have a choice but to leave me. Weeks prior to him moving I wrote a note to him and stuck it deep in a box for him to find when he unpacked. I never asked him if he found it and read it, kept it, or threw it away. I don’t think I want to know.

I guess maybe some of this is coming from therapy, which was a bitch today. I told Dr. Lee about Andy breaking up with his first girlfriend, post “us” …. and how sad it made me for that girl. Whenever you go to therapy, they always drag out of you how everything makes you feel. Whether you want to feel these things or not, you are going to in those sessions. I told him about my dream. He said that I was associating my loss of Andy with how his ex-girlfriend must be feeling right now. I asked him if that was an empath trait. He said that it very well could be or it could just be simple empathy (these are two different things), and I was just remembering our breakup because I knew that it was very likely she was going through the pain of not having Andy anymore. 

Midnight Moonlight

My daughter came back today after a week’s stay with her dad and step-mom. I always love it when she’s here with me. It makes me more motivated as a person, because I know that I have someone besides myself to take care of. There’s just an extra light that she brings by being herself. 

This week was hell. I worked my ass off. The payment for that is to work harder than I worked the day before because I’m one of those people that is always trying to outdo myself and I almost always feel like I have something to prove to someone. That comes with the territory of having always felt like you just simply aren’t good enough. You get into the mindset that if you just work a little harder, push a little farther, the strengths will overcompensate the flaws and weaknesses that you do have. 

I’m sitting down in my room with the laptop. I’m trying to push away the memories of how often I did this exact thing last year; listening to music, typing away on this lap top, waiting for my world to crumble around me. This bedroom has seen a lot o laughter and smiles but it has also been a safe haven for my tears, my pain, my anguish, my fears, and my emotional suffering. The bed I have was my “post Chesley bed” – the first one I owned after he and I split up. It was my first step to having something that was mine, and mine alone. It was the first time I knew that I would never again be the one left out on the streets alone with a child to take are of. Being homeless on top of figuring out how to feed and shelter your child is something that I don’t wish on anyone. I realized that when you rely on another person to take care of you, you’re in danger of exactly that. I will never be that person again. 

My birthday is next Saturday and I just want so much to sleep through it. I guess with the territory of being Introverted comes the fact that I don’t like the attention I get from having a birthday. Yes, it is the specific day that I was born so many years ago, but I don’t see what the big deal is. I guess it’s not completely an introverted thing – Chesley is a huge introvert but his birthday’s are to be celebrated like the fucking Civil Rights Movement or he feels cheated of his special day or something. 

I just want to disappear on that day. Last year I came home from work, lied in bed to take a nap, and Andy came through the door and put a small box beside me. He had bought me a necklace. It was the only thing he ever bought me and a few months later when I was taking it off, I dropped the charm down the sink. I called him in a panic because it was all that I had left of him and the good times we shared (this was after he told me he was leaving me), and when he got home he took the pipes apart and retrieved the charm. Previous to that, nobody has ever really bought me anything except for Chesley on my 21st birthday he bought me an MP3 Player. Out of the three years we were together that was the only thing he ever got me other than a bullshit necklace that said “I love you” on it. After he loved me so much he threw me out on the streets, I pawned it and never thought of it again until this very moment. 

I look around this room and try my hardest to keep all of the sadness away from me. After all of this bullshit with Chesley these past couple of weeks, I have been doing really well. I completely cut my mom out of my life, I’ve cut him out, at the first sign of any drama with anyone, I cut them out – it’s a very short limit that I have for garbage, but it’s a nice feeling. I have a friend that I’ve been trying to help through some shit and I’ve been there for him, but it looks like he’s about to walk right back into something that he just went through hell with – and I don’t have time for that either. If you can rid yourself of the very thing that is destroying you – well, there’s a problem. I’m all for working out whatever issues you may have, but I get sick of being the one that people lean on at the first sign of something going wrong. End things or don’t. It’s that simple. Don’t say it’s over when you know in the back of your head that you want things to work out. Don’t kid yourself and don’t try to convince me of something that you know isn’t true. 

It’s hard enough fighting my own battles. I can’t fight everyone else’s for them. I don’t mind being the ear to listen and the advice-giver to someone that will actually listen to me, but I can’t slay your dragons for you. That, you will have to do on your own.  

Scream it All Away

Today was different than the past few months have been. For the first time in a very long time, I was like a blank slate in my head. It was a very nice change. My coworker asked me if I was okay. She said I looked like something was confusing me or bothering me, and she was right. I was confused as to why my mind was without trouble. No stress. None. I wasn’t looking at my phone every five minutes to make sure I didn’t get a text message from anybody that needed my help. 

Other than a few text messages from Charlie, my phone was very silent today. It’s both relaxing and unnerving at the same time. There was a brief moment where I panicked and wondered what good I would be for anyone if I shut them out and they one day needed help. I reminded myself that I’m not closing the door on everyone, I’m only closing the door on people that do me more harm than good. I fought the urge to run over to my therapists office, because we only meet on Tuesday’s. I wanted some reassurance that I was doing the right thing, even though it’s something we’ve discussed at length, and for quite some time now. He says that saying something and actually doing it are two completely different things and require two different levels of courage. 

On the way home today I weighed the thought of how we control our own destiny versus how much God controls our destiny. I thought to myself that God knows when I’m going to die, what kinds of things I’m going to do in my life and with it. Then I thought that to a certain extent, I control my own destiny. I could have driven my car off of the bridge at that very moment and ended everything, and that would be that. I’d never do that, because I have Julie …. but I knew that while there is a plan in the grand scheme of things, those plans can be altered by our free-will. It’s a scary feeling to know and realize that you have so much control over your own life. One wrong choice and everything is different than what it could have been. 

And then I wonder how many wrong choices I have made in my life and haven’t realized it, yet. 

And I still don’t sleep at night, despite the release of these emotional burdens I’ve been carrying around forever. While I have cleansed myself of the bullshit of other people, I still have to deal with being me, and that can be a little unsettling at times, because most of the time I don’t even like myself – and I usually can’t figure out why. Maybe that’s something to discuss at the next therapy session. 

“Lying beside you, listening to you breath. The light the flows inside of you, it burns inside of me. Hold and speak to me, of love without a sound. Tell me you will live through this and I would die for you. Cast me not away, say you’ll be with me, for I know I cannot bare it all alone.” – Amy Lee

Never Again

It’s funny, the things that can happen in one day. The things that can change. You can lose all of your money in one day. Someone dies, you get in an accident, your boyfriend tells you he’s moving away, another boyfriend tells you they don’t love you anymore. You can lose your job or your home. you can fall in love. Everything can change. 

Over the past week things have been crazy in my head. I’ve been struggling to find my identity and I’ve been struggling to figure out who is an asset in my life and who is holding me down. A few days ago I removed Chesley from my friends list. He told me he had disabled his Facebook but that his wife must have logged on to it and activated it again. I removed him from my friends list because I didn’t want her causing any problems for me while they were having problems. Once I found out they had calmed down and were giving their marriage another go, I told him to accept me as a friend again. He said he didn’t want to while his wife was out of the state because it might look suspicious. I told him I’d be her friend too if I had to. I’d do whatever I needed to do to prove that I wanted nothing more than friendship. I said I’d “take one up the proverbial ass” as it were. I sent his wife a message asking her if it was okay that me and Chesley were friends. She responded back with how he was a grown man and she didn’t care what friends he had. 

He also told her everything I said to him about not wanting her to snoop around on my page, about taking it up the ass and having to deal with being her friend just to be his. 

What. The. Fuck. 

I was seriously confused. And I must admit I was a little more than hurt. Why would he do something like that? Why would he tell her what I said. I bet he didn’t tell her all of the shit he said about her when they were fighting. Being the adult that I am, I kept that all to myself because it doesn’t solve anything. I had a field day with my therapist. I showed him everything that happened last week and last night. 

He asked me what I hoped to accomplish out of being friends with a man that physically and emotionally abused me for years. He’s asked me this before. I didn’t have an answer for him. I didn’t have an answer for him today either. He had a rather interesting point to make, though. He said, “Crystal, how do you define friendship?” I told him that it’s someone that would do anything for you within their power, someone that is there for you, listens, and loves you as a person. 

Dr. Lee: Does Chesley represent any of those?
Me: Chesley has been through a lot. He isn’t capable of being there for someone right now when he’s going through so much. That’s what I’m there for. 
Dr. Lee: Can you remember a time that he was there for you when you needed him, without any strings attached?
Me: When my boyfriend left me to fly back to California, I called him bawling into the phone and he asked me if he needed to pull a ‘Dawson’s Creek’ and drive to the airport to stop my boyfriend from leaving. And when Andy left me he sent me a text message and told me that I deserved my happiness, and I gave a lot of love and passion, and anyone would be lucky to have me. 
Dr. Lee: Now name the times that you’ve been there for him over the past nine years. Better yet, I want you to take this piece of paper and write down every positive thing he has ever done for you and on the other side I want you to write every negative thing he’s done to you, including what he did last night. 

My positive list was only half way down the page. The negative list took up the entire right side and most of the back. 

Dr. Lee: Think really hard about this next question, Crystal. Are you still in love with him?
Me: I love him as a person. I love him for the potential that he has in him to be a good person. I’m not in love with him, no. 
Dr. Lee: How long did you try to win his approval of the person that you are? How much weight did you lose, how many things did you buy him, how much time did you spend making sure that you were the best you could be for him? How much did it matter?
Me: I tried our entire relationship to win his approval. I never did. I lost weight, took his truck to put gas in it, made sure he had dinner and cigarettes, I took his truck on his birthday to get a stereo system put in it, came home with it and he told me he didn’t want it, to take it back. He wanted Flowmasters. I took his truck the next day and waited at the shop for six hours while they put Flowmasters on it. I wasted an entire day sitting with his fucking truck while they put pipes on it. I never got his approval. 
Dr. Lee: Then why are you still trying? Why do you want to validate being good enough for a person that you will never be good enough for? Just because you don’t fit what he wants doesn’t make you less of a person. Why does his opinion matter so much?
Me: ……. I don’t know. 
Dr. Lee: Do you feel you can live your life without him? 
Me: Yes. I’ve been doing well enough for the past six years. 
Dr. Lee: Then maybe it’s time. You are talking about ridding yourself of the things that hold you down. Three years of someone putting you down followed by six years of you putting yourself down is quite enough punishment, don’t you think? If you’re going to be done with that kind of negativity in your life, you need to be done with it 100% 
Me: Okay. 
Dr. Lee: Chesley may have been opening the lines of communication to his wife by telling her what you two talked about, but I would examine his motives a little more closely. What kind of ‘friend’ does something like that if they have your best interest at heart? Is that something you want in your life; someone that’s willing to ‘throw you under the bus’ as you kids call it to make themselves look better?
Me: Do you think that’s what he did?
Dr. Lee: Do you? 

 

I sent his wife another message this afternoon and told her that I no longer had any interest in being friends with him. I told her that she would no longer have to worry about me trying to contact him, and if he tried to contact me, he wouldn’t get a response. She said she was happy that I realized what was going on. She said that she hoped I had a good life. She said that she and Chesley were starting over with a clean slate in their marriage. I told her that I hoped it lasted for many many years and that they enjoyed each other. 

I’ve got nothing left to offer him. And even if I did, I wouldn’t want to now. Not after what he did. Of all the things that I know and could tell …. and I choose to keep it to myself. But people sure don’t have a problem using me to make themselves look better. I gotta love myself. I’m letting go of all of that. 

And today, when I left work, I sang at the top of my lungs and I smiled. And I felt good. 

Everything Changes

Summer is in full swing. My 29th birthday is less than two weeks away. I try hard to not remember last years birthday. Prior to that, it has been years since I’ve really cared to do anything to mark another year older. Once I had Julie, there wasn’t much reason to celebrate my birthday. I concentrated on her milestones. 

There is so much to say and really no reason to say any of it. I don’t find it productive to waste time talking about things that don’t matter, so I won’t. 

My boyfriend and I spent the entire weekend watching Harry Potter movies. They had a marathon on ABC Family. We watched the first one the first night, number two and three Saturday, number four and five Sunday, tonight we watched six, and tomorrow we will watch Part One of Seven and then Wednesday Part Two. I haven’t read the books. Books like that don’t particularly interest me, but I figured I’d at least give the movies a shot. I fell asleep during Lord of the Rings, I will never ever ever watch anything having to do with Star Wars. I also don’t like The Beatles. At all. Ever. Absolutely dreadful. 

Next month will be a year since Andy pulled the plug on everything. Surprisingly I’m doing well. Seeing things that this girlfriend posts don’t bother me anymore. I’ve accepted that he has found someone better suited for him than me. I’ve accepted that distance wasn’t the only factor in the demise of this relationship. I’ve accepted that he will most-likely get married again one day, and I know without a doubt that it will not be to me. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him getting married didn’t bother me. It does. Simply because he said he didn’t want to ever get married again. I knew that was a lie from the beginning. I made myself believe it. 

It’s amazing; the defenses your mind and body put up to shield you from pain. It’s like your mind and body know exactly how much you can handle without completely losing your mind, and the rest it blocks out until you can handle more. It’s like a filter of some sort. I look back on all of the bullshit I’ve dealt with (no more than other people, just different) and looking at it collectively, it seems nearly impossible that one person can withstand so much pain and abandonment and loss. Thinking about it in detail shows a different story. 

“So tell me please, who the fuck do you want me to be? Was it something that I couldn’t see?”

I’ve been working my ass off. I’m trying to sort my life out. I’m trying to do the right thing for me and the right thing for others. I’m trying to figure out what’s worth it and what isn’t.

I had an opportunity to make a choice that would have changed my life drastically. It was one of those moments that I thought I had waited years and years for, and yet when it happened, I didn’t want it. I wanted nothing to do with it. I don’t even know what that means. It surprised me. Maybe I’m growing up. It was a huge realization for me.  

This past year I have learned a lot about myself. I have learned that I can handle a lot of sadness. I can handle the worst kind of heartbreak. I made it through the Andy breakup, and in the end I am smiling. I haven’t cried on the way home from work in a few months. I don’t cry myself to sleep anymore. I guess I can credit a large part of this to my boyfriend but also to me, too. I allowed myself to feel the pain as long as I needed too. I felt it, I grieved, I listened to really sad shitty music, I stared at the wall for hours in a trance, just remembering everything. I let my pain consume me, chew me up, and spit me out. Only then did I even try to start putting the pieces back together. 

That’s the thing about rebuilding yourself. That’s the thing about getting back up when you’ve fallen. You can’t put yourself back together until you’ve completely broken down. Only then can you build who you are. Only then can you be who you once were. 

I was wrong, though. Earlier in one of my post I talked about how you can rebuild your heart, but each time it’s a little more broken. 

I am finding that I put my heart back together just fine. It fits together differently now; I’m not the same person I was last year, but I am whole again. And if something else tears me down, I will rebuild again ….

…. and again, and again. 

Full Moon

Today was just ….. one of those days. You know, the kind of day that you swear there must be a full moon because every crazy lunatic in the world seems to be out and about? That kind of day. 

Our previous receptionist made it quite the habit to forget to actually schedule a patient for an appointment, so they are subject to show up at our office with an appointment card and nothing in the system to reflect that, at any given moment. We had one of those days. 

Not to mention one of my patients batted his eyelashes at me a few weeks ago and asked me to please come in earlier than normal to do some testing on him so that he could get to work on time. Because I love (most of) my patients, and my job, I left home earlier than normal and got to work before the others and did his test …. and yet he still had to wait for my boss to get there and examine him. 

I fell asleep on the couch at 8 tonight, got up and headed down to bed before 9, lied there and stared at the fan for an hour, wide awake. *Sighs* My mind just won’t shut off. I don’t know how to get it to shut off. This entire week has been draining. On top of everything that has gone on, I had two specific patients that I picked up feelings on the other day. I called the first one back and as soon as she got a few feet away from me, in my head I heard ‘sad’. (Without even looking at her, because I look down at the floor until my patient gets to where I’m at.) After asking her how she was doing, she told me she had buried her sister the day before. The patient right after her, I called back and the same thing happened, except in my head I heard ‘sick.’ And after talking with her for a bit I learned that she just found out her doctor wanted to do a brain biopsy for potential tumors. 

I have to figure out a way to shut this off when I’m at work …. or just basically when I feel the need. I know some people that read this think I’m weird or full of shit or whatever, and that’s cool. I almost wish I were. 

I’ve also realized that I’m the “go-to” friend, which kind of sucks. Twice this week I’ve had to tell two people ‘no’ to something that they’ve asked me, because I just have so much on my plate that I feel like I can’t take on anymore. But that’s how people view me, I think. They call me up because they know I will be there, but otherwise I don’t really hear from them very much. It kind of makes you feel used. I can’t save the world. Sometimes I just wish someone would save me. The strongest of us sometimes start to sway, and we just need someone to help us stand back up straight. 

I just need for life to make sense. Nothing makes sense to me right now. I’ve been faxing things to the IRS for my grams, trying to help her get all of that straightened out. There’s a silver lining in those clouds at least. Having a lawyer really helps you in the long-run. But earlier this week my grams had an emotional breakdown while talking on the phone to my grandpa and she came out of her room sobbing hysterically to the point that I thought someone had died. Turns out she was just concerned about the car we are leasing and when that lease is up and what we’re going to do. Instead of asking me to find out what the options are come the end of September, she just thought we were screwed because of her IRS crap and started acting like a lunatic. I called the dealership from work, and we actually have quite a few favorable options. But it was just another thing to add to my overflowing plate. Another thing I had to find time for. 

Today would have been my Grandma Carol’s 69th Birthday. She died in October of 2010 from Congestive Heart Failure. I miss her so much. You never realize how much of an impact someone has had in your life until you no longer have them … be it death or a breakup or whatever. Once they are gone ….. sometimes there’s no going back. 

Sometimes you never get the answers to the questions that you just simply can’t answer yourself. 

Not a Day Less Will Do

Posted on

I’m exhausted. And by exhausted I mean that I am utterly, totally, and completely out of my element.

I got word yesterday that Chesley and his wife were splitting up (again), and this was followed by a friend request from Chesley himself which means that he went to the trouble of unblocking me, which only means that he defied his wife’s wishes and wanted to be my friend again. Three seconds after I accept this friend request, his wife sends me a message ….. “I hope ur ready!” To which I responded that I don’t know what her problem is, but I didn’t do anything to her. 

Then, like an Indian Giver, she tells me that I can have him back. It’s like, in my head, I imagine a very long, drawn out paragraph of  …. “You know that man that you loved with every inch of your being? You know, the one that I convinced was unhappy with your fat ass? Yeah, that one. I’m done brainwashing him, I have no use for him anymore. You can have him back.” 

I mean, she said it as if Chesley were a piece of property that can be bought and sold on a Monopoly board. 

I didn’t sleep at all last night. Mostly because it’s a very shitty sleep when I’m by myself, and Charlie was working third shift last night …. but also because I was overwhelmed by this influx of information I had received. I prayed on it. I prayed for guidance as to how to help this problem. I said in my last entry that I believe I was put here to help people, and I feel like if people come to me for help, I do what I can to make their life better.

Having witnessed the disaster that was Chesley’s previous wife leaving him (enter me, the rebound), I will never forget how he lay on his couch in the living room and listened to Tim McGraw and Faith Hill ballad out “Like We Meant Nothing At All” on repeat, and I’m standing in the background knowing and understanding that he’s wishing his wife were with him at that very moment. I couldn’t replace her. All I could do was watch him lay there, miserable, and I offered my emotional support. 

So, being privy to the goings-on of a Chesley-marriage-explosion, I figured that he was having a hard time sleeping, maybe listening to music, and comparing his life to those of the song (I’m guilty of doing this myself.) and therefore I was having a hard time sleeping because I was worried about him. -_- This is where being an empath really sucks. Really. Sucks. If I can feel what he’s feeling and he ain’t sleeping, that means I’m not sleeping either. 

This morning his wife and I start back on the messaging. She wants to know if I’m taking him back. I tell her that I am simply an ear to listen, that nobody needs to do anything drastic until they both calm down and sit together and talk about this. Six years is a long time, but in the scheme of a marriage, it isn’t that long. If they are really done, then be done. But I have her on one end wailing about how she loves him with all of her heart, but she doesn’t know how to show it to him like I did. I have him on the other side of things not leaving their home because he has this rule about “Once I walk out the door, I’m not coming back.” Essentially I’m getting in one ear how in love she is with her husband, but can’t show it ….. and in the other ear I’m realizing that Chesley isn’t leaving his home because of course nothing is ever final until someone says it is …. and even then, it’s debatable. 

I spoke with him at lunch and told him that maybe they would be able to sit down tonight and get some answers from one another. Whatever the outcome may be, they both needed to really make sure of what they were doing. I know better than anyone that you simply cannot take one step forward with a lot of bullshit hanging onto your ankles.  

Keep in mind that his wife has it in her head that I am out to destroy their marriage. You see me doing that, right? You see how I am on this path of selfishness to destroy everything they have.

I haven’t heard from him anymore …. or her. He changed his Facebook status back to Married. Maybe they are having a good night together. Maybe this is the clean and correct path for them to travel down together with their kids. Maybe it isn’t.

But I prayed on this shit. I prayed on it most of last night. The answer I got was to remain impartial to the situation, leave my personal feelings about his wife out of it, and see what I could say that would leave me out of it as the bad guy while allowing them to work on their shit and still allow me to maintain my friendship with Chesley. God help me as to why his friendship is so important to me, other than the fact that I have known him for nine years, we dated for three, and he promised me that we would always be friends. Don’t tell me I have gone through all of this for no reason. 

Because I will always care about Chesley, I want what is best for him. Just like I want what is best for Andy and for Tim, and for everyone else I’ve dated that I cared deeply about. I want happiness. I want to know that if someone leaves me, the least they can do is find better than what we had so that it wasn’t all for nothing. I don’t want someone leaving me to have been for no reason. It might sound crazy, I don’t know, but I hope they all find the happiness that I felt with them at one time ….. and I hope they find that kind of forever-happiness that I have always wished for.

I tried to fall asleep tonight, but I couldn’t do it until I got this off of my mind. There really isn’t anyone with whom I would want to discuss this with – nobody that would understand anyway, so I needed to write it. Now, I can sleep.  

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