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Day 523 – Merry Christmas

December 25, 2019

I’ve been crying for a long time. Been crying so long, I started getting dark circles under my eyes and my used-to-be-white eyes started looking reddish and brownish… Vanity wins again. I looked at my brownish eyes the other day and said, “something must be done.”

Yesterday was the first time in a long time that I didn’t cry. It was lovely. My eyes got almost white on that same day. I felt a freedom. Ninety-eight percent of my brain was cloudless. There was a lot of tomfoolery going on with different things, but I didn’t feel sad about it. I was OK. I spent Christmas eve alone in my dirty room, and I was OK with it. I was even proud of myself. I had gotten invited to go a couple places. Men – the bane of my existence – had invited me out. Men who wanted me in ways I didn’t want them. I was proud of myself because I didn’t go. Even though I was alone and would have preferred company to being alone, I would have preferred being alone than having encounters that would ultimately be more detrimental than good for all parties involved…

I woke up on time this morning. Got up before my alarm. Ate my two oranges and drank water before going into yoga class. I made it to yoga class. I added my physical therapy stretches into the yoga routine and sat in the warrior pose as long as they told me to, even though it was painful… I was supposed to be meeting with a friend this morning and was thinking about asking him for us to get breakfast burritos when we meet up. They have awesome breakfast burritos on his side of town.

A voice in my head said he was gonna cancel and I should go buy ingredients to make an egg sandwich instead, the kind my brother made for me when he nursed me back to health. I had to go to the store anyway, because I had to buy some items to groom my feet and hair. At the Walgreens that I went to, they didn’t have the food that I wanted to buy, so I bought the stuff for my feet and hair. Then I sat outside in my car to meditate for a bit. I was feeling really grateful. I looked up at the sky. The sun was just barely rising and in the foreground was a building that had a “Bank of Hope” sign on it. Bank of Hope resonated with me. I took it as a sign. Took a picture of the sky. Maybe I will use it as my Facebook cover, I thought. And Bank of Hope, too. Maybe I am entering into a huge bank of hope, I thought.

Then I got a text message. I already knew what it was. My friend was canceling our meetup. He did. In classic, stank, cold fashion, like he always does when he cancels stuff. He said he had a dream that told him not to meet up with me now. I was heartbroken. I know. I’m not supposed to be. But whatever. That’s what happened. This particular friend is actually my ex-boyfriend. The first “official in-person” boyfriend that I ever had. We got together when I was 19 and he was 18 years old and stayed together for a year. I ended up dumping him because I wanted to see some old raggedy man whom I (thought) I was in a long-distance relationship with and had been in love with before said boyfriend, but who disappeared from my life without exit for more than a year. Old Raggedy had reappeared on the scene. Called my mamma’s house and left a message for me. I had to see him, but couldn’t see him with a boyfriend in tow. So I broke up with the best man I’ve ever been with. Crushed his heart. Of course it didn’t work out with Old Raggedy. And after seeing Old Raggedy, I couldn’t get back with Best Man. I liked him very much and didn’t tire of spending time with him, loved him even, but I wasn’t passionate about our relationship and I wasn’t pulled towards him the way I was pulled towards Old Raggedy. Being with him was more peace than I’d ever known, but there was a part of me that just wasn’t sure that I’d be with him forever…I couldn’t crush Best Man’s heart like I did ever again, and I wouldn’t get back with him unless I knew that I was never going to leave him again…

But I couldn’t commit to that. I thought he was too young. I thought he didn’t know who he was. Nothing bad had ever happened to him. He lived with wonderful parents – a pretty homemaker mom and a handsome psychologist dad – in a house with his own bedroom, and his two siblings were nice to him and he had a lot of good friends and his dad gave him his car when he started college and he was just awesome. But he had never been hurt by anything, and because of that, I didn’t trust that his idealistic view of life and positive attitude would last. I couldn’t commit to being with someone who had never been hurt. He would change, I thought, by life’s first blow, and I didn’t know what he would change into. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me that maybe I could protect him from all the painful stuff in life, and maybe he could protect me.

So we broke up, and I wouldn’t get back with him, and I became his life’s first blow, followed by women who treated him worse than I did and so many disappointments and heartbreaks.

When I moved to California, he came shortly after me. After asking for us to get a place together and then flaking on the day we were supposed to pay the money and move in, we lived down the street from each other for a year or so. He’s an artist of all sorts. He was supposed to draw pictures for a children’s book I wrote, but couldn’t. Didn’t. I edited his first published work. Or at least I edited the first draft. I didn’t like working with him. He wasn’t taking my notes and was chopping up and taking out all of the best material from his work. And he was mean. He was in this phase where he felt like he had to be mean and strong and dominating in order to get things done. I was in the beginning phases of recognizing my deep need for kindness and flow…

When he was broke and down and out, I would help him with money, food, my heater. I ask him for help with stuff sometimes. Sometimes he comes through… We have lived between five to fifteen minutes away from each other for most of the time I have been in LA. For the past four or five years, we talk on average about six times a year at the most and see each other maybe once or twice a year. Sometimes we pass along jokes or ideas via text…

He had been depressed for a long, long time, and started identifying with the dark things in the world. In the past year or so, he started seeing a counselor or psych person and got diagnosed as autistic. He is public on his social media about his diagnosis and also about the fact that he has been starting to feel happy and optimistic about things. He joined a fraternity and started hanging out with a new group of people.

Yesterday, I had such an urge to hug him. I wanted to see him. I wanted to hug him. I had this hug in me, and it wasn’t for just anybody. It wasn’t for whatever men were calling and trying to meet up with me. It was for Best Man. I called him and we talked. I told him I Loved him so much and I wanted to hug him. He said it was the nicest thing he had heard in a long time. He said he had been around such cold people and had forgotten how warm people can be. I was so looking forward to seeing him and hugging him…

After writing out our story, I understand why he flaked today. It was too much. How dare I open up his heart if I’m not gonna stay? I’m not mad at him. I know, you’re probably mad at me for breaking an innocent’s heart. I’m mad at me, too. I wish I could take his heartbreak away, and every other thing that happened as a result of it. What would his life had been like if he never met me? I don’t know if he would have finished college. I used to tutor him during his freshman year. He couldn’t pass the math test to take college class and would complain about how the test was unfair and how it was too hard. In my classic bully way, I told him that if he couldn’t do college math, he was too dumb to be in college. He took it as a challenge, and through our tutoring, was able to pass the test and prove to himself that he wasn’t too dumb to be in college, or too dumb to do anything if he put his mind to it. I never thought he was too dumb to be in college, by the way. I knew he could pass that test if he got over the idea of thinking that it was too hard. So maybe I did something good for him. I made him believe that he can do stuff, even if it’s hard and even if it takes a long time. Who knew that he was autistic and he would need to believe this in order to get along in life. According to him, 80 percent of people diagnosed with his condition at his level can not function on their own in life.

I’m sorry that I hurt him. I’m so sorry that I left him. And I’m so sorry for the bullshit experiences of friendship and love that he has had for so long. I still can’t marry him. Maybe I could, but he is stubborn and he is deeply entrenched in the survival game of life. You know, in America, we learn all these theories that don’t hold water in other places. Here, we learn to only be with someone if you want to be with them exactly as they are and don’t think about changing them. In other places, like my mom’s country, they are taught that people will change and grow, so, if a person has a characteristic that you don’t like and you want to be with them, just be with them. And try to change them. LOL. It’s ok to try to change people in other places. And sometimes people change. Sometimes they don’t, though. I don’t know which theory is better… For Best Man, though, for today, he did what he did to protect his heart. I know the feeling of being in love with someone and they leave you only to come back in your life and tease you with their love and leave again.

I’m not mad at him. I wasn’t trying to come back and tease him. I just wanted to hug him because he so needs a hug and I so need to share all this love in my heart with people who I actually love who won’t hurt me.

God, what am I supposed to do with his hug? You say to give it to myself… And let the energy radiate out from me to anyone safe who will receive it. And so I will.

The good news is, I am finally willing to forgive myself for hurting my angel of a Best Man, and I am thinking about being willing to forgive the people who Loved me and hurt me tragically. Maybe they didn’t mean it. I’m sure some did, but others didn’t. And I’m sure if I look hard enough and imagine how my life would be had I never met them, I would find that they have given me some key tools that will carry me the full distance for this part of my life… Have a beautiful day. Merry Christmas.

Day 523

Merry Christmas

From → The Harvest

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