Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Three Years.

Three years ago I woke up sleeping on the floor at my parents' house.

Three years ago I packed up most of my possessions in a matter of hours.

Three years ago I left the only man I thought I could ever love to come home to an empty apartment.

Three years ago I moved out, but I didn't let go.

I realized today when I finally did let go. It was the moment I started to cry during the Blue October show with Oose.

It almost saddened me to realize how little I was affected when he contacted me this week. Not because of the loss of him or feelings I had for him. More because of the loss of the idea of him and the idea that I knew who I eventually would end up with. Most of all, sadness for him because he will never find anything else in his life as good as what I tried to give him, especially in that first year. He will never be as loved and cared for as he was with me.  Which is fortunate for me, because my life is quite obviously better without him in it, trying to control and manipulate me constantly.

To think, if he had been able to let go of his addictions for everything but me I would probably still be with him. I would probably have a baby now or be pregnant. I would not be at a school somewhere far-ish away from Redding learning from amazing faculty and meeting awesome people. But he never could and never will be able to live without those crutches he's carried longer than a decade.


I suppose all this is just to say something simple. Goodbye, Bambi, wherever you may be. I thank you for everything you helped me learn. I forgive you for the way you taught me those lessons. And I hope one day you find a way to forgive yourself.




Three years.

You keep moving on, unchanging.

Three years.

I grow tired and move forward, forgetting... 

...That once upon a time I was young and naive and you swooped in like Prince Charming on your fake horse to save me from perils that never really existed.

2 comments:

  1. I am so glad you have forgiven him. Anger is such a burden to hold on to.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You don't realize how much it's hurting you to hold onto until you let it go.

    ReplyDelete