I think it's time to openly admit that I am still not over my ex. At the end of the day, I seemed to play a game I didn't know the rules of but I was getting just enough to feed my imagination and make me want to play more...I played against myself, with no option but to lose.
Some of you know that I have a permanent partner, we're still together and we're still able to make you vomit with our cuteness, very much so. Just before I met him, I was still with an ex. Incidentally, not just an ex but my first ever girlfriend. We were together in our mid teens, we then split up, and after about 7 years (i.e. last spring) we decided to give it another go, as we both realised that we'd left things unfinished and we wanted to know whether "us" was a relationship worth pursuing. Our dates were wonderful, we took walks, talked and claimed places to be "ours" or called places we'd like to go to. We did all that people do on dates, and it was sweet because it was the second time around, we had grown up and you probably know, there's nothing sweeter than getting back with an ex-partner.
I had to go back to England, we wrote little, I wrote her a letter. She loved it, thanked me and adored me for it, she loves letters. She never got to writing one back. I felt like I put in more effort and yet she would still spontaneously write to me saying "I love you". Fair enough. I got back to Sophia, and we took the same walks, it was all lovely. We just never progressed from there, and soon she failed to come to Pride with me because she'd been out the previous night, being fucked by some guy until the morning, to the point of bruises. I didn't know whether to kill her or help her on the next day, when she called to explain. I wasn't bothered much about the guy, we'd been in an open relationship, but I was pissed off as hell that she chose to go out when I was purposefully giving her space to study, with exams coming up for her, so I called the whole thing off.
She had long beautiful hair, going down to her waist. Such a charming smile. What I will always remember, though, no contest, is the scent of her body, natural sweet smell. That's what makes her unique.
I am happy that I know now what I didn't know when I was 14 and when I cried my eyes over her: we cannot ever work, we're so compatible yet so different in our approaches toward relationships. It's all the closure that I'll ever get, just knowing that it cannot work, it's no-one's fault. It should be enough.
Yet I am stil bitter, not because I miss her, but because I miss what she represented. I hate that the person who is so responsible for who I am now, the person who made me a bit more of a woman, is also the only ex that I am not speaking to and I am not on friendly terms with. I hate that she hurt my ego, that I still don't know what she did to me to get under my skin like this. I know she meant it when she said she loved me. I hate that I will never really know why we couldn't work, why I wasn't worth the effort for her to fight for me.
I hate that I will probably never be able to hate her.
Some of you know that I have a permanent partner, we're still together and we're still able to make you vomit with our cuteness, very much so. Just before I met him, I was still with an ex. Incidentally, not just an ex but my first ever girlfriend. We were together in our mid teens, we then split up, and after about 7 years (i.e. last spring) we decided to give it another go, as we both realised that we'd left things unfinished and we wanted to know whether "us" was a relationship worth pursuing. Our dates were wonderful, we took walks, talked and claimed places to be "ours" or called places we'd like to go to. We did all that people do on dates, and it was sweet because it was the second time around, we had grown up and you probably know, there's nothing sweeter than getting back with an ex-partner.
I had to go back to England, we wrote little, I wrote her a letter. She loved it, thanked me and adored me for it, she loves letters. She never got to writing one back. I felt like I put in more effort and yet she would still spontaneously write to me saying "I love you". Fair enough. I got back to Sophia, and we took the same walks, it was all lovely. We just never progressed from there, and soon she failed to come to Pride with me because she'd been out the previous night, being fucked by some guy until the morning, to the point of bruises. I didn't know whether to kill her or help her on the next day, when she called to explain. I wasn't bothered much about the guy, we'd been in an open relationship, but I was pissed off as hell that she chose to go out when I was purposefully giving her space to study, with exams coming up for her, so I called the whole thing off.
She had long beautiful hair, going down to her waist. Such a charming smile. What I will always remember, though, no contest, is the scent of her body, natural sweet smell. That's what makes her unique.
I am happy that I know now what I didn't know when I was 14 and when I cried my eyes over her: we cannot ever work, we're so compatible yet so different in our approaches toward relationships. It's all the closure that I'll ever get, just knowing that it cannot work, it's no-one's fault. It should be enough.
Yet I am stil bitter, not because I miss her, but because I miss what she represented. I hate that the person who is so responsible for who I am now, the person who made me a bit more of a woman, is also the only ex that I am not speaking to and I am not on friendly terms with. I hate that she hurt my ego, that I still don't know what she did to me to get under my skin like this. I know she meant it when she said she loved me. I hate that I will never really know why we couldn't work, why I wasn't worth the effort for her to fight for me.
I hate that I will probably never be able to hate her.
1 comment:
You never truly 'get over' the special people in your life. I myself would say i still am, to a degree, in love with previous partners even though I know they are no longer that person. Honestly though, it's not the person I love anymore but the memory and the part of myself they represent. The experiences and feelings we shared will never be the same with someone else. I wouldn't want them to be, I will have a whole new, wonderful set of experiences which won't be better or worse, just different. I thank every person I have ever loved for bringing me to this moment. The time I spent with them, the mistakes i made and the triumphs we had together shape my attitudes toward life and relationships and have helped me form beautiful bonds with my current partner. I miss something about them all but I wouldn't trade what i have now for anything. Even after breaking my heart I can't hate them. If i hated them it would show I took nothing form our time. Hating an ex usually, is just a sign you can't accept the lovely thing you shared has finished. You close yourself off and dwell on the bad events. As sad as this can be, it only makes way for new beauty to enter your life. When Fruit falls from the tree, it breaks down and makes the soil rich, which in turn allows for a new plant to flourish. I hope it grows into a sunflower
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