This is an article inspired by a dash of sobering cold water. This is an article written by a man who cannot apologize enough for making a mistake. This is an article by a human being who can’t understand how the people we love can grow so far apart from us.
I am making an additional post this evening, off my normal schedule, for the sake of catharsis. For the sake of telling the world what it means to feel the sting of your own barbs thrown back at you. To say in as loud a voice as this text will let me, that there are things I wish I could undo, mistakes I wish I could correct, how I hold fast in my heart how I wish there could be peace and understanding between myself and those I love, even if for some our paths are destined not to cross again.
To give you some context, here is a snip of a post made about me on another social media platform:
By my most recent ex. Awesome. If you’ve read very many of my recent posts you’ll know how much of a mindfuck that journey has been.
And yes, before you ask, I took the flamebait and responded. Except it was with an I’m sorry.
I never actually talked shit about my grandfather, for the record. I was certainly annoyed by the situation, and wasn’t in the mood on that particular day for a lecture. If I condescended about the man when talking about the religious pep talk I received, it was certainly not intentional; if one truly knows me, you know that I struggled for my childhood, my teenage years and part of my adult life to break free of religion and of the conditioning most of my family would have seen me follow.
I am no atheist. I have long held to the notion that I am agnostic, because I believe humans are simply not capable of grasping or comprehending the truth of the universe. There may be one all powerful god controlling everything. Or we could be a bunch of meat floating around on a rock, a random happenstance of life. Who knows? My three best friends in the world are Christians to varying extents, and never in all the years I’ve known them have I ever mocked their faith. I think every person has the right to believe in whatever works for them. Where I draw the line is when that faith is pushed on others. And you know what? My grandpop may have meant all the best, and I dare not spit on the generosity he showed me that day or any other, but quite frankly, he does have quite the tendency to push his views on others. I don’t need some petulant brat, even if it’s a brat that I still have feelings for, telling the world that I shit on a member of my family. If she could think that, did she ever know me?
So now I’m a crazy ex-boyfriend. I’m an asshole. And you know, as much as it hurts to come across a post like that (and I did set myself up for it by reading feeds she posts in), on one hand, how mad can I get? If I could read minds, I’m sure I’d find out that lots of people think I’m an asshole. I have the male equivalent of resting bitch face. I’m confident to say that when I’m out shopping or forced to deal with crowds I have the look of death. I have other exes, at least two of which I’m sure think I’m a jerk. For one of those two I can’t really blame them, because things unintentionally fell apart in a hurtful way.
Did I lose it? I suppose that depends on your definition. She broke up with me, then there was a solid two weeks of dead silence between us. After two weeks, I broke the silence. I said some really stupid things to her, the stupidest of which talked about how pissed I would be to see her with another person, should the day ever come. It was harsh, it was stupid. Then I apologized. Then I tried to cram all of my feelings from our entire relationship into a couple of final letters to her. This activity all happened in the course of several days, after which I left her completely alone until the very day of this post. If that’s harassment spread across several weeks then sure, whatever, I apparently have no grasp of the space-time continuum.
The point of all this is that I just can’t get my head around how two people who are seemingly “meant to be” can grow so far apart in such a short amount of time. Was it more one-sided than I thought? That’s scary. Why is it scary? Because of the sweet things she said, the way she touched me, the tears she shed whenever I had to leave her at home after a short weekend together, not to see her for another week or more because of our work schedules.
I said and did stupid things while we were together. Ditto for before I ever met her, and I’m sure that despite my best efforts, I will say or do something stupid in the future. It’s only human, I suppose. The question I keep asking myself is why couldn’t we have worked on, talked about the stupid things I said or did, and the same for her, instead of just cutting ties and then writing me off as a crazy?
If I could take back everything I’ve ever done wrong, I would certainly do so. Believe me, I’ve spent many a night kicking myself in the ass for every time I’ve ever lost my temper, for times I was arrogant and condescending, when I wish I could splash my past self with cold water every time I stood by like a moron and let bad things happen without at least trying to stop it.
If I may sound like a pacifist for a moment, I wish there could be peace and understanding between all of us. That we weren’t so capable of hurting each other. That even if we must part ways with one another, that at least there can be understanding, that we can respect each other’s perspectives and ways of thinking.
It doesn’t really matter so much if she even reads this post. What matters most is that I can stand here, that I have nothing to hide, that I can declare that I have made mistakes, I was a desperate, panicked, angry, confused young man who felt the most beautiful and precious woman in the world to him slipping away, powerless to stop it, everything I did and said only making it worse. When she confessed to me that at one point, I terrified her, because I lost my temper and slammed some doors and furniture in a childish display, it broke me, because in that moment I acted like the idiotic, angry men in my life I swore to never ever be like. I was weak, vulnerable, I envisioned the woman I love being swept away by another person, and yes, it was a kind of madness. Jealousy is one of the ugliest emotions we’re capable of, and its affects are nasty.
I am only human.
All I can do is make up for my mistakes in the best way I possibly can. My heart and my mind sting right now, and yet a part of me still loves her, even if she is a brat, even is she is young, even if she exaggerated what she had to say because it’s easy to do that when you can be anonymous and not have to look someone in the eye to say such a thing. Or maybe, you know what? Maybe she’s still hurt too. Maybe lashing out is the one way she can get those feelings out. Fine.
All I can do is try to be a better person. To never show anger to a woman again. To never take people for granted again. To fight for what I think is right and pure and precious to me. To hopefully through what I write, help other people avoid the mistakes I have made, to inspire others to be better, to treat each other better. That maybe one day we’ll stop hurting each other so much.
Take care my friends.