The apology came, from him. He didn’t forgive himself… I told him he should have, because I forgave him for breaking me down. I told him that I was happy, and I was finally in a healthy place in my life and that we should not be spending any time together, as friends or otherwise. I loved him, or perhaps I thought I did… love, I am not so sure is coupled with fear, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, followed by little bursts of happy that are sprinkled into a year’s time – all the while feeling not ever good enough to fill the shoes of a woman who was long gone due to his mistakes. Perhaps, it was perceived ‘love’, yes. But that “love” wasn’t enough to make second guess what I have now. Knowing a good thing when I have it, now, after I had learned from the lessons he taught me. Sad, but true.
When I got the email that I thought would never come, I actually felt a little moment of panic. Could I turn away a man, and a boy that I adored? How could I do that?! But after I sat with it for a moment, I thought about how my life has changed in just six months time since his departure and how I could not go back to that way of life. Laying in bed, covered in mascara, drinking Cabernet into sleep while waiting for a text response from him for the second, sometimes third day, in a row — after asking when we could spend some time together — all the while knowing that the anxiety was justified and the response would be something along the lines of “I require time to myself.” or… “I don’t want to be around people.”… or my personal favorite, “You need to get some friends.” after not seeing him for 9 days straight… What he didn’t know was that that entire 9 days, I had gone out with my friends, had dinner with my parents, on 5 of those 9 days. It was him that I wanted to see. Time that I required with the one I cared most for, to build something.
When he left after allowing his wandering eye on Match.com to get in the way of us — he left with defiance and coldness and left me to pick up all of the tiny little pieces. Expendable. Like garbage. Like a year of a kind, loving, caring, faithful woman, had been a nuisance and inconvenience. He struggled with his own demons, and its sad, but it is what it is — I was a broken shell of a woman. I was in a state of severe depression, desperation, and sadness. I would have done anything to have that pain healed, I would have bought stock in Cabernet, and I went to crazy lengths to find any words that had the capacity to heal me. Thankfully, I found them.
So, here it is, six months later. I told him that I was sorry, but that I had forgiven him, and that I was finally in a happy and healthy (keyword) place and that I wished him well.
I am not certain that I have ever felt stronger and happier than I do right now. I feel valuable to any man. I feel like my self-confidence and my self-esteem bounced back from that stronger than it ever was prior to his presence in my life. I actually feel sorry that he will likely never love himself enough to be happy. You cannot base the foundation of every new relationship on that of the past… self-fulfilling prophecy. You are the cause. I could have chosen not to trust D. I could have chosen to keep him at a distance and constantly be looking over my shoulder wondering if he was seeking out other women. But I chose instead to take a leap of faith, trust myself, that this one was not like the rest.
I used to tell people who told me that when they met their significant others and that there was just something about them that told them that they just knew this person had the potential to be long term, that they were full of shit. I would tell them that it takes, time, compatibility testing, surveys, counseling, lengthy discussion, emotions, chemistry, research… Yeah, that was me.
Perhaps someday, maybe it is too late, but perhaps someday he will see the light at the end of tunnel, with a good woman, before its too late. He’s had more than one opportunity… but thankfully, it was not me who had to endure any more years of sadness.
New relationships take time to build and to grow, they are fragile and ever-changing, there are freak-outs, and weird things that my anxiety doesn’t let me see clearly sometimes — but I don’t need to say that I am happy out loud anymore as if I am trying to convince myself or others. They see it in everything I do, and everything I say. I hope that for him, too… because forgiveness was not for him, (before he asked), the forgiveness was for me — so that I could get to here. This place.