Time heals all wounds. That’s what they say. Who are “they” any damn way and who made them authority on time, healing, and wounds? Have you seen my wounds lately? It seems as if time is taking too much time. I have a hard time letting go of men that I fall in love with. It’s like when I give my heart along with my body parts, I lose all my senses. Like Velcro, a sista can’t let go. It’s like I’m evicted but I sit on the front porch as if I still live there. Don’t believe me? Read on.
The One Who Was My 1st Love
Where did all this madness begin? This pattern started in the summer of 1998. My first love from high school moved back to his hometown after we graduated. I was devastated for nearly a year. I wrote. I emailed. Thoughts of him consumed me daily. Even after I found out he had someone, I had this silly idea in my head that he come back to me someday. I thought I could will him back to me. I finally got over him after I fell in love the second time around.
The One Who Lied
I met The One Who Lied in 1999. He became my heart’s newest obsession for the next 3 years—the longest romantic relationship I’ve ever been in. Everything was good until my jealously, insecurity, and our mutual infidelity took toll on our relationship. It nearly drove me insane. Actually, our breakup was the tipping point that led me to finally see a doctor. I was diagnosed (well, misdiagnosed) with depression.
One would think that our bad breakup would be enough to make me distance myself from him permanently. That and finding out via Facebook that he was married and had a child. Until this day, we are still sexually involved. But I’m not in love with him anymore. I do love him and sometimes wish I was the one that he married and had two children with but, that is not the case. He feels familiar to me and has always been somewhere in the background when everyone else disappointed or disappeared.
The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same
In between extending the expiration date with Lied, I managed to fall in love—yet again with The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same in 2005. It was the first time I fell in love with a non-boyfriend. He was my sex buddy of nearly 3 years. Our casual relationship had so many up and downs. He was always pushed me away only to push his penis inside of me days, weeks, or months later.
We didn’t speak for several months in 2008 because of yet another falling out but that didn’t stop me from thinking about him everyday. When he finally reached out to me, he was moving to the east coast. He apologized for how he treated me and we had farewell sex. And for the next few months, I replayed how our bodies pressed against each other and how every touch felt like fire. I even booked a flight to see him but our communication would cease for months at a time and eventually, my plane tickets expired. I haven’t heard with him since last spring.
PRESENT DAY: The One Who Loves to Text
This now leads me to the present day with The One Who Loves to Text. I’m repeating the same obsessive behaviors. I can’t stop thinking about him. I miss him desperately. I even drunk texted him this past weekend and all I got was a “wtf” reply a few hours later. I apologized but never got a reply…which didn’t surprise me at all.
Even though there are 3 other men who are sniffing at my dress, all I still see is him. Besides, they just only want to put their pickles in my jar anyway. I’ve had my share of penises, what about a heart for a f#cking change? My friends keep reminding me of what an asshole Text was towards me. And that if he really wanted me, he would have fought for me and treated me better. Sigh. Perhaps they are right.
Moving on is so hard. And the way I officially move on (if you haven’t noticed the redunkulous pattern already) is falling in love with someone else. It seems as if falling in love isn’t working. It’s apparent that love doesn’t love me. So, what’s next? I am clueless at this point.