I do not make sense. I sure as hell don't make good decisions. I haven't just pressed the "Self-Destruct" button on my sanity, I've pounded on it repeatedly knowing the consequences and simply shrugging, as if to say "Oh well...fuck it."
A great deal has happened recently that I have been unable to explain or put into words. It's hard even for me to make sense of the events that have taken place. Everything just flipped upside down and got all jumbled up and...remarkably, fell into place. Not necessarily the
right place, but a place where I've wanted my life to be for the past three, four months.
On Tuesday, he (you know the One) agreed to see me to just talk things over. As I was driving to meet him, I could hardly steady my violently shaking hands and my tense grip on the steering wheel had turned my knuckles bright white. I became so nervous at the thought of seeing his face and reading the hatred in his eyes that I had the urge to throw up. I wanted to turn the car around, retreat to my bed and curl into a little ball. However, I reminded myself that I had to find the courage to finally apologize to his face for what I had done. Or I'd remain a big fat coward.
Prior to our meeting, when everything had failed but I was too stubborn to give up, I wrote him a letter...well, not really a letter but a list of 100 things I missed the most about our relationship. I wanted to make him believe how sorry I was. So I sealed the letter in an envelope, took a deep breath, placed it hesitantly in his mailbox and waited. I was nervous as to what his reaction would be but, to my mixed surprise and relief, a few days later we were agreeing to talk face-to-face for the first time in over two and a half (hellish) months.
At our meeting place, I sat hugging my knees on a stone ledge situated on a hill, overlooking the white and orange lights of the industrial park. As I waited for him to arrive, I counted all of the blinking red radio towers in the distance, wishing I could be that far away at that moment. Anywhere but facing the ex-boyfriend I'd betrayed.
When I finally laid eyes on him he looked so different and slightly older; he'd grown a beard and I noticed more defined muscles straining in his arms. I felt this familiar ache in my chest that I used to get while we were dating and I'd finally see him after weeks apart. I realize now that that ache was caused when, in my anxiety and excitement, all of my muscles would tighten and my lungs would stop working for a second. You know, just like the romantic cliches... "my heart skipped a beat" or "my breath caught in my throat."
Honestly, I'm not sure what my goal was in meeting him. Deep down I wanted for him to accept my apology but I had come equipped with plenty of doubt to prevent any false hope from seeping into the corners of my brain. I also brought some extra disappointment, too, just in case. He'd repeated several times that we would never be friends ever again and I was willing to deal with that. So I would never have expected what happened to happen...
We ended up talking for over five hours, well into the middle of the night. At one point he admitted, "I don't wanna give you anything but I missed you." There was some crying and a lot of arguing...but, amazingly, we made progress. Rather than try to summarize our entire conversation, I'll give you a visual indication of our progress: initially, we were sitting with about four feet in between us. However, gradually he scooted closer to me and I hesitantly put my hand on top of his. Then we started kissing. And one thing led to another.
Like I said before...I don't make sense nor do I make good choices. I'm not sure what was going through his head, I don't even know what was going through my own head.
We saw each other the following day and he was distant at first. I could almost feel his old resentment burning into my skin. But he pulled me closer to him and it melted away a little bit. He asked me whether I was happy and I told him that I was. He responded, "I'm happy too when I'm with you but when I'm not with you..." and his voice trailed off. I knew what he was trying to say. That when I wasn't physically around, he could only picture and remind himself of the horrible things that I did and the lies that I told. I didn't want to push him so I tried to stay away but again he pulled me to him, whispering "Maybe I'm just a sucker cause you're so pretty." We're both just suckers, I guess.
I spent the night with him again last night. We were both much more comfortable this time, maneuvering around each other just like we used to. "I love seeing you in my bed again," he said, smiling. The whole night we just laid together, talking and not talking. Listening to music and laughing and kissing and soaking in every inch of each other. Every inch that I had missed for so long. And, as optimistically and romantically ridiculous as this sounds, it was perfect. (Of course it's not really perfect...our situation is completely utterly imperfect seeing as how, after this summer, I leave for college and he leaves for Army basic training. We're not going to stay together...I couldn't even consider us "together" now because everything is far too screwed up and that word is far too optimistic.) But I haven't been that happy in months and months.
I'm doing the very most idiotic thing; the thing that will inevitably destroy me a second time. The right decision, as hard as I want to fight this notion, would be to cut everything off between us. Get over each other for good so I can enter college and he can enter the military with a clear head and a clear heart. But I don't think I physically or mentally have the strength to go through with it. Instead the two of us have dreamily fallen back into our old ways. I am naïve to think that anything good can come of this. Of playing make-believe. All that I can look forward to is a bigger fall than the first.
But I'm just going to close my eyes and leap.
Quod me nutrit me destruit
"What nourishes me also destroys me"
