Okay, so this post probably isn’t going to make me sound very brave. It’s probably going to make me sound like a wimp who wound up being an asshole for a minute. But I feel brave, dammit, so I’m going to share this.
When my ex-fiancé and I called it quits, he insisted that we stay friends and refused to give me any buffer time. This made moving on excruciatingly difficult, bordering on impossible, for me, because every time I thought I’d made some progress, he would text me and I would find myself right back to square one, questioning if breaking things off had been the right decision and second-guessing myself until I wound up crying myself to sleep over him. Again. And the worst part was, I can’t help feeling (in retrospect) that he was manipulating me because he knew about my mental health issues and knew how to use them against me. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am.
Now, mind you, all of my fabulous girl power friends were telling me that I needed to cut him off – block him on all social medias, delete and block his number, and give myself a chance to reboot, if you will. But I hesitated. At the time, I would have told you it was because he had apologized to me (sincerely this time) and seemed like he was changing and I was wondering if things were going to work out for us after all, in the end. But the honest to God truth was, I was scared. I was so, so scared to let go of someone who loved me, because what if no one else ever loved me again? What if this was my one chance and, if I blew it, I’d die alone?
This all came to a head over the weekend during a conversation with an old friend, who was fortunate enough to leave this duty station in her dust last year. We were talking, and something she said struck a chord with me. She and I have a lot in common, and we have a really great understanding of each other, because of that. She gave me some advice about how to survive my last eight months here, but she also told me this:
“… make space. This is why that Charles Bukowski poem is my favorite goddamn thing. ‘Isolation is the gift. All the others are just a test of how much you really want it.'”
And for some reason, that was it. That dropped the coin. I still didn’t act on it right away, but the final catalyst – the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back – came today, when my ex started texting me and immediately started being passive aggressive and acting like a dick. It suddenly just hit me. I didn’t have to take that. I didn’t have to allow him access to me. And if I needed to take some time to heal before I attempted to be friends with him, that was my goddamn prerogative.
… I may or may not be listening to Britney right now.
So, I removed him as a friend on Snapchat and Facebook, deleted his phone number, and blocked him on WhatsApp and Facebook messenger. I’m starting over. He’s not going to be a part of my life again until I decide to let him in. I’ve deleted all the dating apps off my phone and I’m focusing 100% on myself right now – going to the gym on the daily, trying to eat better, studying up on my future career and focusing up on my college classwork, trying to accelerate my degree as best I can. It will be interesting to see what I can accomplish in the next eight months!
Until next time, stay frosty, nerds. ❤