Category Archives: relationships

Messy

I think part of the reason I’m feeling so crappy–a BIG part of the reason–is my relationship with B.  Or my apparent lack of a relationship.

He won’t pick up the phone.  Won’t call me back.  Won’t answer my texts.  I don’t know why.  Nothing happened, as far as I know–we didn’t fight or anything.  He’s just not talking to me.

We’re supposed to go to my sister’s wedding together.  We planned to do a big road trip.  B loves road trips, so I thought it would be fun.  Two summers ago, he and a buddy from college rented an RV and did a cross-country road trip.  He wanted me to come, but I just wasn’t in a place where I could.  So I thought a smaller road trip would be a good way to make up for it.

We need to, you know, plan this trip, seeing as how the wedding’s in less than a month.  I’ve been trying for three weeks to get him to plan this with me, but he won’t respond.  I don’t know what to do; I don’t think I can afford a plane ticket now.  I don’t want to seem pushy or bitchy or whatever, but I need to know if he’s coming or not.  I mean, what else am I supposed to do?  I guess I’ll email him and say, “Look, I don’t know what the deal is, but are we doing this trip or not?  If you want me to leave you alone, just tell me, but it’s not fair to leave me hanging.”  It sounds passive-aggressive, but I don’t know what else to do.

Since he moved to New York at the beginning of the year, he’s been more distant.  I thought it was just that we were adjusting to the long-distance relationship thing.  He never reached out–but to be fair, neither did I.  (I never do with anyone because I always feel like they don’t really want to be bothered by having to deal with me.)  I did call him when I found out my grandmother had died, and he couldn’t even be there for me.  I gave him the benefit of the doubt because it was late and he was about to have finals, but he never called back to see if I was okay or anything.  He did call on my birthday, but I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t call him back.

It really hurts, but I feel like I have no right to be hurt.  See, a few years ago, I broke up with him.  I felt like he deserved someone better, someone without all my issues, someone who could give him sex and kids and everything he wanted.  I didn’t talk to him for months.  I honestly thought it was better for him, that it would hurt him less that way.  I was really messed up then, and I was wrong.  I hurt him so badly, and I’ve never gotten over the guilt.  Part of me feels like I don’t deserve to complain about how he’s treating me because I did it to him first.

But another part of me says that doesn’t make it okay for him to hurt me back.  I would never intentionally hurt him.  I learned from my massive mistake, and it’s not one I’ll repeat.  I still deserve to have feelings, and I deserve a partner who cares about my feelings.

I don’t know.  I feel like I should just walk away, but part of me can’t.  I don’t get attached to people, not usually.  I’ve walked away from so many people in my life, whether intentionally or because I stopped tending to the relationship, and I’ve never missed anyone before.  That probably makes me sound like a cold sociopath or something, but it’s true.  I’ve never really missed anyone before, not like this.  They might pop up in my thoughts every so often, and I might wish I could see them or talk to them, but it never hurt before.  This hurts.  And I’m angry at myself for letting it go this far.  I hate myself for being so weak and stupid, for letting myself love him.  I’m just not meant for that.

God, I don’t know.  Maybe if I hadn’t been so detached for my entire life, I’d be used to this by now.  Maybe if I hadn’t been such a robot…

The more I think about it, the more messy things get in my head.  I know a lot of this is coming from other parts, but I can’t sort it all out.  I don’t want to sort it out.  I want to go back in time and never let myself have feelings for him.  I want to call him and beg him to not stop loving me.  I want to erase him from my head entirely so I don’t keep feeling like this.  I don’t want to deal with any of this.  I can’t deal with anything right now.

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Paper Doll

BF told me he’s probably moving to NYC at the beginning of next year. At first that was okay–we’ve done the longish-distance relationship thing before. There are trains I could easily take to go down for the weekend or whatever.

But he just assumes I’ll move there with him. Granted, I have no idea where the fuck I’ll live after the end of the year or how I’ll afford it, but still. He just assumed. Didn’t ask me what I think or what I want. I know I’m making him sound selfish, and he’s not. I think he just forgets I’m a real person sometimes, and that hurts. Too many people have intentionally made me a non-person, and even though with BF it’s not malicious, it still hurts intensely.

I’ve fallen in love with Massachusetts. I didn’t realize it until I thought about leaving. I knew I’d never go back to Alabama, but I didn’t realize I’d gotten so attached to Massachusetts. Back in the winter, A asked me how I pictured a satisfying future, and I told her I wanted to end up living in Boston eventually. Maybe I’m as guilty as BF–we were having problems, and he wasn’t included in my fantasy future. Just me, but now I can imagine him in that future. I just can’t imagine it in New York.

I feel like I’d drown there. Disappear. There’s just so much of it, so many places and people, and I can’t ever imagine feeling safe there. It makes me cry just thinking about it. It’s so hard for me to feel safe, and I finally do. BF doesn’t understand that. He can’t. He hasn’t been traumatized, and he’s a man. It’s different for women–we’re taught our entire lives that everything is dangerous because we’re small and weak and there’s always some big man out there who wants to hurt us. BF has never had to live in a state of constant hypervigilance and fear. It takes so long for me to feel safe, and I don’t think I could ever feel safe in NYC. And he can’t understand that.

But it still hurts. And it hurts that he didn’t even ask me how I felt about it. Of course he’s entitled to make his decisions about his life without my input; that’s not what bothers me. It’s that he includes me in it without asking what I think.

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