Addiction

Why everything that's supposed to be bad make me feel so good? Everything they told me not to is exactly what I would. Man I tried to stop, man I tried the best I could, but...

-Kanye West "Addiction"

As most everyone with an internet connection knows by now, Amy Winehouse was found dead today. There's no official word on cause of death and last I saw authorities in Britain are treating it as "unexplained." Even with that being the case, most people have assumed, and with reason, that her death is most likely related to her infamous drug use and abuse. Based on what I do know about Amy Winehouse, I'm sure that she wasn't a heavy drug abuser, I'm sure she was heavily addicted.

I saw a few folks on twitter pondering the difference between addiction and heavy drug use or someone using drugs a lot. There is a difference because one is poor self control and the other is a disease.

I was once in love with a guy who lied to me almost non-stop about almost every thing. You name it, he lied to me about it. I was in love with a guy, same guy, who after blowing through his own trust fund, stole thousands of dollars from his parents, accused his beloved nanny of stealing the money and refused to return it. This same guy, this guy I was in love with, totaled not one, but two cars. He did sneaky things like disabling his brother's car so he could use it while his brother was gone. I once loved a man who put himself in harms way regularly, to satisfy his own needs (once, he drove 2 hours to another city, parked in a WaHo parking lot and when he woke up the next morning had no idea where he was, how he got there or what happened -- he called me in a panic).

He did all of these things because he was addicted to drugs. Namely alcohol and opiates. I have stories for days about the things he did or said or put me through that revolve around his usage. If you've ever known someone, much less loved someone, who was addicted to drugs you know that the things I listed above only scratch the surface of what can happen. I know addiction has to be a disease because I can't believe that someone would do the things an addict does, on a daily basis (and I'm not even referring to injecting strange liquid into their blood streams), and not have some type of disease. Poor self-control can surely lead to someone falling victim to an addiction disease, but the two descriptors are for different types of people.

I'm not going to pretend that addicts shouldn't be held responsible for the things they do and maybe that's what makes it hard for some people to differentiate between a person with poor self control and a person with a problem. Being addicted to drugs or alcohol does not absolve you from responsibility in the same way we might not judge an end-stage terminal cancer patient who can no longer care for their own hygiene. But even as we lock up alocholics who hit kids with cars, we can't forget that they have a problem that requires specialized treatment.

I watched J's downward spiral from having poor self control to full blown addiction. It was really easy for me to pretend that he was still just a selfish man who wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, even when the signs pointed so clearly to addiction. But now that it's been several years and I can look back with much more clear vision, I can see the clear line that he crossed when he went from just wanting to forget his problems to needing it to function.

I hope that if you have never known anyone personally who was addicted to something, you never do. It's not an experience I think any one needs in this life. However, regardless of whether or not you have that personal connection, I hope that your sympathy for those who really struggle with addiction increases. They made choices that put them there, yes. They do really bad things and should be held accountable, yes. But being addicted to something is far different from using it or doing it a lot. Addiction is a whole new ball game and causes you to do things that in your sober mind, you'd never imagine doing...

Finding Earth or Something Like It

Recently, a guy at a gas station tried to hit on me. He told me, at one point, that he was still looking for his Earth. When I asked him to explain, he rambled off something about it being comparable to a soul mate, but not quite. He said he didn't believe in soul mates because "you can make it be whatever with anybody..."

Now, I'm still not clear on the difference between his "Earth" and what most people refer to as soul mates, but he still has me thinking about the topic.

I spent my birthday with J's family -- which I did last year as well. After dinner the night before my b-day, as his mom and I waited for the car to be brought around, she remarked to me, "You two were soul mates..."

And then, a couple of a days ago I was watching Oprah and 2 of her guests were Fran Drescher and her ex husband Peter Marc Jacobson. They divorced after several years of marriage because Jacobson came out of the closet. One of the first things she said during the interview was that they were soul mates.

I have no idea what my definition of a soul mate is. I think there are some basic qualities that seem obvious: someone who cares for you deeply, someone who understands you, maybe even better than you understand yourself, someone who supports you, looks out for you... which sounds a lot like a good friend, but I think in the case of a soul mate, it's x1000 and it happens naturally, without a lot of prodding or work, as is sometimes necessary in run of the mill relationships.

I reeled just a tad when J's mom made that comment to me. She clearly understood his sexuality and accepted and supported it, so her comment clearly had nothing to do with our romantic relationship. When I heard Fran Drescher talking about it, though, it made a little more sense to me -- that is, things I had been thinking and working through.

A piece of me is uncomfortable with the finality of calling J my soul mate -- maybe because I have to admit then that my soul mate is gone and I really did lose him, or maybe because I'd have to admit that I'll never find anyone to get me the way I need to be understood -- but in any case, I can toy around with the idea of it.

But this guy -- he said that "you can make it be whatever with anybody..." I reeled a tad when he said that, too. It didn't feel right. Maybe you can fake it with anybody, but eventually that shows. Hard times come and if it's not real, it's easier to run. I think soul mates exist, I just wonder if (or maybe hope I haven't) met mine...

Transparency

A friend of mine recently got into a serious relationship with a man she met online. He seems to be really good to and for her. Prior to him were a string of less than wonderful guys. Some played games, some were immature, some were users. At every turn she kept her close friends updated on the turns and dips and ups and downs. When she met this guy, though, she didn't tell anyone. In fact, she had been visiting me the weekend of her first date with him and didn't mention that the real reason she was leaving earlier than planned was because of him. She called me after the date to spill the beans. She told me that she hadn't told anyone about him because she was afraid it would be another bust and she just couldn't deal with having to talk all her friends through another one of those. I completely understood. I've told her (and several other friends) "don't be surprised if the first time you find out I'm in a relationship is when you get an invite to a wedding..."

I've pretty much walked my friends through many my relationships, especially the one with J. It started because I was in high school and that's what you do in high school. You lay up on the phone late at night telling your girlfriends all the sordid details (funny how when you get older the only person you want to be on the phone with late like that is your booski...). Since my relationship with J started in high school as we moved to college, my friends still wanted to know everything and my new friends started to want to know all about the train wreck, too and because I needed to vent, I was more than happy to oblige.

Towards the end, I started to keep details to myself because I began to feel that some of my friends were using my life -- which as it related to J had gotten super hard and troubling -- as entertainment. I felt like some of them would call me just to hear the latest, as if I was their favorite weekly television show and it bothered me. But I still had that nagging need to get out what was going on and so while there were some details I kept to myself, I still continued to talk a lot about it.

In the years after the relationship ended, I thought a lot about my part in the implosion. Not talking to J about my feelings was my part. Even when he didn't want to, I should've tried instead of letting things build the way I did. I also needed the support of my friends through it all and unfortunately because the only thing they ever heard from me were negative things they were completely unsympathetic to him and as an extension, unsympathetic to the relationship. "Just leave" was all I ever heard and even though it was right, it wasn't what I was searching for.

I'm actually a pretty private person. I don't enjoy having a whole lot of folks in my business. Interestingly, the main reason I don't like it is because I hate for people to make assumptions or draw conclusions. This is ironic because the lack of information I give has actually caused assumptions and misinformation about my personal business to run rampant. This is a digression.

Since then, I've vowed to keep my cards closer and tighter. From time to time I've had slip ups -- sharing something with a friend about a new guy or an interest only to realize that was too much, but I note it and do better moving forward. I don't need my friends to meet new folks all quickly. I want a minute to get to know them myself before we jump into meeting friends. Plus, meeting my friends is akin to meeting my family (ftr: my family, God love 'em -- He knows I do, is quite the adventure. My fiancee, or the guy I wanted to be my fiancee would meet them. Other than my mom and maybe a cousin or two, that's it. Too much prep work is involved otherwise, and that's why my friends take that role) and there's no sense in bringing in someone who might not make it through the month.

All of this brings me back to here. This place. I've mentioned one or two guys offhandedly (well, except for this guy who got two posts, but that was just... that was a mess). How much is too much information on a blog? I used to blog about me and J on a site that maybe a handful of people knew about and he hated it. We had several fights as a result and so I didn't blog about us anymore, except for in the most cryptic of ways and of course that was when things were pretty much over.

I deal with things by talking them out. In argument style terms, I'm the aggressor. In an argument with a loved one, I want to keep fighting until we get it out. I seem to attract avoiders who just want to leave it alone until everyone cools off. In order to respect that, I go to my friends or Microsoft Word to process things. I've written (make that started) several short stories just because I needed to work out an entire situation surrounding one major event. So in the firestorm that can be a relationship, in all the life lessons you learn when you're trying to be with somebody while trying to still be your own body, how transparent is too transparent when being private is important to me?

Some of my favorite bloggers have the ability to take personal situations and put them into story form and share major life lessons through that. Recently on twitter a couple of those folks talked a little bit about the consequences in their private lives, of doing that. Including upsetting their significant others. I guess it's all in why you do what you do. I am big on intent, after all.

Ultimately, I'm probably just going to have to cross that bridge when I get to it. But I do know that I want to really know my significant other before I get to talking about anything beyond his first name with my friends and I want to be very cognizant of taking my concerns and problems about him to him first -- knowing that it won't always be easy (though, if he knows me the way I hope he will, he'll know that he should do his best to make that easy) but that it will be worth it.

Something I Miss

Remember this post? I still miss all those things, but I think I'm better at distinguishing between what I miss and what I think will just make everything "right" again. Or rather, I can distinguish when I'm legitimately missing a way my life used to be and when I wish I had it back just so things could be less whatever they are in that moment.

And yes, I still miss high school and undergrad and predictability in my life.

I genuinely miss J. As I'm moving through my counseling classes and learning about pacing clients, helping them find their own holding environments and so forth, I'm realizing that in a lot of ways, J acted as a holding environment for me. I'm realizing more and more the things about me that he seemed to intuitively understand without me having to explain the way I have to explain to so many, now.

I miss having my idiosyncrasies without consequence. :)

I don't miss J without remembering that it was for the best that things between us ended the way they did, but I would love to have him around, now, as a friend who just got it. I don't know for sure that that would be possible, but I would've loved to have had a shot at it.

My First Love

About as much as I like to tell a story to make a point, I like to use a song. In fact, my first love and I used music all the time to make a point or express ourselves. I have CDs and CDs of songs that I made for him and he made for me. Sometimes, the music says it better than you ever could.

One song that I remember being SO on point for a specific time in our lives is "Body and Soul" by Anita Baker.



I've written a lot about the last few years of my relationship with J on this blog, but not as much on the first few years. We broke up right as I went to college and then spent the ensuing year unsure of what that meant for our future. By my sophomore year we both knew we wanted to be together but a lot had transpired over the previous year that made us both scared. One night I was lying in bed letting my iTunes play when "Body and Soul" came on. I don't know if I'd never paid much attention to the lyrics before or if it was just where my mind was that night, but that song really spoke to everything I was feeling. I got up and immediately sent the lyrics to him. He told me they were right on time because he was concerned about making the wrong decision.

My birthday is 5 days after Christmas. On that day, in 2005, he was driving back home and would go through my city. He stopped and spent a few hours with me. When I took him back to his car and gave him a hug, I did not want to let him go. I was completely shocked at myself: I'd never felt that way before. I had butterflies, I was... oh gosh... I was in love. We were official not too long after.

Our demise is well documented throughout this blog. A little over a year ago, J committed suicide. We hadn't been in regular contact, at that time, in over a year but it hit me hard. Sometimes, it still hits me: all the things I wanted to say to him, all the things I still felt for him. But I know that, given the outcome, the way things happened was best. I couldn't see it then, but I know now that it was right.

The getting over him and us process has not been easy. There have been times where I'm sure that I'm done and I'm good and over it, but then I have experiences and moments where I know I've got just a little further to go.

My first love took me through every emotion imaginable. There were times where I couldn't imagine life without him and others where I had no idea how I could continue with him. But I wouldn't trade anything we went through together for the world. If I had to go through it, I'm glad it was with him.

Playing Games

Like 73.2% of my posts come about because of incidents that point me back to a recurring theme. I told ya'll -- Motif is the literary term for my life.

So today's motif topic is playing games. Clearly I don't mean fun ones like kickball or keep away or 4 square or any of the other warm fuzzy games of our youth. I mean the kinds adults play with each other that too often involve manipulation.

Twice in the last week I've recounted the "true" end of my relationship with J:

Right after J came out of the closet, my personal life, understandably, went a little topsy turvy. One thing he kept saying in the intial conversation was "nothing I've ever said to you about how I feel about you was a lie."

But the truth was, I felt like the preceding 3 years of my life had been one big lie. It was really quite the existential crisis and I went into crisis mode. In fact, the next day I called his mom to tell her that I would be calling J to tell him that we couldn't talk anymore (which had more to do with the argument that ensued after he came out) and she should be prepared. When she called me back, it was to inform me that he'd been in a car accident that'd nearly taken his life.

J was sent to CA for rehab -- physically and mentally. He went to a drug facility on a beautiful beach for 60 days. He called me for the first time about 2 weeks after his accident. I'd promised his mom and myself that I wouldn't talk to him for a while because we needed the space. However, he called me from an unrecognized number. We spoke. I told him how I felt and that while I wanted so badly to be there for him through rehab, he had to find someone else. He'd taken it all from me.

Fast forward about 3 months. I'm in DC for the first time on an internship and I'm stretching my "adult and on my own" legs. One thing I have nagging at me is unresolved issues with J. Over the summer, we talked a lot. Some conversations were good, others were hard. He admitted to me that he wasn't sure of his sexuality but that he wanted to try again with me. He was sorry, he would do better, he was -- well all the things I'd wanted before.

And I'm believing him. Too much and too fast for myself. Though I cautioned him early on that I wouldn't tell him not to try but I wasn't sold that he could win me back, he was winning and I was not in control. I felt like I was right back where we had been before, but he wasn't. Which, honestly, was just as things had always been.

I threw the brakes on. One night after he promised to call but didn't, I text him then called him and I told him that I didn't want to speak to him anymore. We were over. It was best that way. I wanted him to fight me on that. I wanted him to fight me and prove to me that he really DID want me back. I wanted reassurance that I wasn't falling by myself as I had done before.

I could've gotten reassurance if I'd just asked him. Maybe he would've lied, sure. But at least I wouldn't have been playing games. It took me 2 months to realize he really wasn't going to call me -- even though he told me (when he found out 2 days later I had the chicken pox; yes, I was 20 yrs old and had the chicken pox for the first time) that he missed me and every day without me was more painful than the last. At the time I thought it was bullsh*t, but now I know that he was trying to respect my wishes. By the time I got my sh*t together, he had a new boo and it wasn't me.

Never, ever, would I do now what I did then. I'd rather put myself out there than to play games. Manipulation like that may yield you an answer you want (it didn't in my case) but there's always a price to pay. If I had shared with J my fears (that I was falling and he wasn't) my concerns (that I would wake up one day right back where I'd been with him before) then maybe we could've had an honest convo. Yes, maybe that convo would've hurt me but all the game playing that happened caused way more pain than necessary to both him and me.

Earlier today I had a gchat status that said,

You know, I think the best advice I've ever given can be summed up in this fashion: Don't play games. If you want something, just go for it. The game playing only leads to more issues. Less games, more...real. Yeah. More real.

And that's the point of this post. I wish we would just be real with people instead of trying to trick them into the answers we want. Ignoring his phone calls because he pissed us off. Not calling her back to make her sweat so she'll be extra nice when you do call. Saying you don't want to see them again when all you ever want is to see them. Game playing gets you nowhere but played and that lesson I learned the hard way.

Re-Post: Untitled Space

I wrote and originally posted this in October of 2007. At that time I was in the middle of my very first internship in Washington, DC. This was the first time I'd been so far from home for so long. When I wrote this, I had finally cut most of my ties with J and was trying to come to terms with what that meant. Being 2.5 years removed from this space, now, I can say that I think I wanted to feel some of these things, but I'm not terribly sure I really did

At the end of this post I talk about holding my feelings inside and allude to the idea that I think it's what's best. In hindsight, it wasn't. At that time it was right, but it wasn't something I should've done long term.



The past two months for me have been chock full of experiences. I'm literally on my own in a big and brand-new city. Something about being on my own has made me feel more adult and more responsible but it has also made me long to be a kid just a little while longer. I intend to take full avantage of that opportunity when it presents itself.

I've learned a lot about the person I've grown into. All of the lessons I've learned over the years (and even the ones I'm still learning) are starting to make a ton of sense. I now know what sorts of people I want to surround myself with. I have a little more direction for my life and I'm excited about what the future holds.

This isn't to say or even suggest that I'm not struggling with these lessons. I'm still sifting through what all of this really means.

When you put someone out of your life what does that mean? Does it mean I can never speak to him again. No e-mails, no texts? Is it wrong to want an apology? Is it wrong to wish he would call and beg for your forgiveness?

Honestly, the answer to all of those questions is that there isn't a right or wrong answer. This isn't a black and white situation. What's most important to me right now is that whatever I decide about those things, that it doesn't hold me back. I have been especially surprised at how much easier letting go has been than I thought it would be. Truly, I had done all the work before. There was nothing to hold on to by the time I decided to let go. Emotionally I was a wreck and physically I was working myself into an early grave. When I finally said "let it go" I was about three months behind the game. And I was absolutely prohibiting myself from being happy, successful and productive.

So yes, I wish he was man enough to call me or text me or e-mail me or facebook me or whatever me and say how sorry he is and for him to truly mean it. Yes, I wish he would beg me to come back to him. I absolutely long for the companionship that I don't have because he hasn't done any of those things. What makes wishing these things even harder is that if he were man enough to apologize and to try to right his wrongs, we never would have gotten to that point. Once I had him figured out, he never changed and all the time I thought I just didn't get him, the reality was that I didn't want to get him; I didn't want to believe that what was right in front of my face was true.

He's a good person deep down inside somewhere. I know he is because once upon a time I met that part of him and I fell in love with that part of him and I thought if I waited I'd get that part of him back. Now that I get that I can't make him be that person I can start dealing with everything else. He will always be someone special to me and I will always love him though sometimes it hurts when I think that he probably doesn't feel the same way. Not for a lack of trying but because we met each other at a time when love was just not something he had in himself to give to me. And maybe our relationship was never about me, maybe God brought me into his life to love him through that part of his life and when my job was done I had gotten so attached that I didn't know how to let go even for my own safety.

It takes two peole to mess up a relationship and I played my part. I ignored the warning signs and I never stood up for myself and maybe I wasn't as supportive as I should have been; all lessons I will remember for the next time.

Maybe he's learning, too and maybe our paths will cross again. I would like that. But for right now I'm learning to like where I am as lonely as it feels sometimes and rather than learn to not feel lonely I'm learning to really FEEL the loneliness and be okay with it. I'm learning to FEEL every emotion I have for all that it is worth. To feel the sadness and the sense of loss and the anger and the happiness and the contentment and the since of pride. All of that and so much more I"m really feeling for the first time in a very long time. I've got a ways to go. Heck, I'm not even sure I completely have come to understand who I've evolved into but I like what I'm seeing so far. I like how I'm feeling so far.

To be in the sort of situation I was in for the amount of time I was in at the age I was, you have to be able to turn it off. Yur emotions become like water out of a faucet and you turn it on when you need it and off when you don't. If you let them run, it costs you in the long run. I was too young to know that doing that was unhealthy and I didn't have anyone to tell me that -- mostly because turning your emotions off means to hide them from everyone. Even I didn't realize how much I expected him to be apart of my life. Even when I would think about "what if" I never could see my life without him but I never addressed what that really said about me.

There's a lot I'd love to say to him if I could, but I know that right now it would do neither of us any good; so I'll put it here and I'll hold it in my heart. I'll hold it in the piece of my heart that only he will ever have access to. Oddly, I'm very much ok with that.

Coping Mechanisms

After you read this, head over to The Outlook and check out my commentary on Lincoln Heights.

Damon did a bit of a rant today on This May Concern You about Steve Phillips' jump off mistress and the attacks on her looks. An excerpt:

If your significant other were to ever cheat on you, wouldn’t you want that other person to look better than you? Wouldn’t that make you feel better?

When it comes down to it, I wouldn’t care what the other guy looked liked or what he did. I’ll admit that there was a time — long ago — when that type of stuff may have mattered some. But at this point in life, it’s inconsequential. I see stuff like cheating and adultry in black and white. That said, I don’t think we should be paying that much attention to Hundley’s looks and comparing them to his wife, either (But this is America. She looks terrible and this is what we do).

Here’s why: Comparing oneself — be it looks, education, earning potential or social status — to the competition is one of the most frivolous things we do as people. When you start trying to understand why someone decides to go outside of his/her relationship, the primary place you need to search is the guilty party within the relationship.

Too often people get caught up in that game of “How could he go there with her when I am/look 20 times better than her?” when the question mark in the query should come after the word “there.”

Before futher commentary, first a story.

I've already mentioned that after our relationship ended, J began dating a guy. Go back with me...

It was about 4am when I heard my phone buzzing on the table, near my head. I hadn't long been asleep and my first instinct was to ignore, but something (probably the fact that I'm unable to ignore my phone, all the time) made me grab it. It was from J, whom I'd spoken to earlier. We'd actually had a good conversation which, at that time, had become fewer and far between. I had gotten off the phone because I had a play date with some friends. J asked me to call him back when I got in, but I warned him it would be late. "I don't care. Just call me," he responded. I had no intentions of calling him back, though -- I was playing a game with him then, that I would never play with anyone now. I needed to prove that I was getting over him (we weren't officially together).

Confused and concerned about why he was texting me at 4am (but assuming he was upset I hadn't called him back) I opened the text. It was 4 pages that amounted to, "I'm gay..." I re-read the text message to make sure I was reading it correctly and then I sorta went numb. I had no idea how to feel or operate, but anger wasn't an emotion I considered. While I was extremely upset that he chose to text me something like that, the rational side of me (surprisingly) was the louder voice and it wanted me to try to be supportive.

A 2 hour phone call ensued and it did not go well, at all -- the details are for another post, but in the end he called me names, threatened to kill himself and hung up the phone. The next morning I found out that he'd gotten into a car accident and was in the hospital. Within a month, his parents had sent him to rehab out in California and that began a whole new chapter of issues for us, the details of which, again, are for another post.

In the meantime, I had to figure out what to make of the fact that J was gay. He attempted in the early portion of our phone call, and in subsequent conversations and e-mails to convince me that everything had been real and that he did love me. I wanted to believe him, but I quickly began realizing that everything had not been real. So much so that some things J wasn't even sure what had been a lie and what had been the truth. I needed some coping mechanisms.

At first, I attempted to just be the bigger person. I tried to be supportive of him all the while trying to make sure I wasn't going to crack. Eventually, I gave into the bitter side of me that wanted to make J hurt. A year later, though, I still wasn't over it and so I resorted to convincing myself that no matter what he was saying or doing, I still had been a better match for him than his then-current boyfriend. I sent a friend to his facebook profile (I had long removed him from my friend list) to scope out who she thought might be the new beau. The e-mail I received had a picture titled "yuck" and the new guy was not a looker. I was actually surprised as he was nothing like what I imagined J might be attracted to (but then again -- how would I have known?) and so began a host of conversations with friends that, at some point, included the phrase "Wow, the least he could've done was get somebody better looking than you..."

That was the way I was coping with things I hadn't yet figured out how to deal with. I had put up quite the front for my friends, pretending that J's revelation didn't really shake me to my core like it had and pretending that I'd moved on; I hadn't. I was still trying to wake up from the nightmare. Going to them to just talk about what I was feeling didn't seem like a viable option, but laughing along with them at J's new boyfriend did seem to work.

Our coping mechanisms don't always make much sense, but I don't think they're supposed to. If we understood how to truly deal with the issue at hand, we wouldn't need coping mechanisms. In the long run, I really had to be honest with myself that no matter what I said, I wasn't over J. Despite his sexuality, I still had feelings for him (compounded by his inability to decide if he was really "just gay") and I needed to figure out if I could live with that or if I couldn't. That wasn't an easy thing to do, but once I did, I found I no longer needed those ridiculous and silly coping mechanisms. There was nothing to cope with.

Sometimes we need to reassure ourselves that we are "worthy" and there's nothing wrong with us and we use other people's shortcomings to do so. For the most part, we'd frown on someone doing that, but when it comes to being cheated on or left, we seem to accept it. However you have to feel better about yourself is how you have to do it, we seem to think. We should want better for ourselves; we should want to deal with issues so that we can move on. Coping mechanisms are temporary fixes for our ego; we should be looking for permanent fixes.

Hi. I'm Still Here....

I was reading Joey's blog post on the Swizz/Mashonda/Alicia debacle. Her post reminded me of quite a few incidents that happened with me and J.

We would argue all the time about whether or not our waitresses were flirting with him. He would swear up and down that they weren't. Eventually he admitted that he knew they were flirting with him, but he didn't want to admit it to me because he didn't know how it'd make me feel (that he didn't shut it down...)

I wasn't the insecure/jealous type so mostly my irritation at the waitresses was more on a "can you please be more professional" level than anything else. I wasn't actually worried that he'd take their bait.

There was the waitress who wouldn't look at me when she came to the table. She'd walk up, look at J and say "Is everything ok? Do you need anything?" Even when I'd pipe up that I needed more Coke (because though she'd been refilling his beverage, she hadn't touched mine) she wouldn't look at me. At the time, J swore he didn't notice -- but he couldn't argue with me when the check came and on the back she'd written her name and number.

There was the waitress J was able to flirt with to get alcohol. He was underage and I'm sure she knew that, but he was also a charmer.

But probably my favorite story happened after he and I had broken up and he was in a new relationship. We met up for dinner once -- we hadn't seen each other in at least 9 months -- and decided to go to some rinky dink place. We really just wanted to talk. J happened to be wearing a cologne that I had bought for him (I say "happened to" but I doubt it was accidental). Our waitress noticed and commented on it. I had already checked how she was flirting with him and ignoring me, but it didn't matter to me very much. She kept complimenting him on the scent and he was nervously laughing and sort of looking to me for a little guidance. I just shook my head; on some level her desperation was amusing. Finally she asked him where he had gotten it from. I knew he knew where I bought it from, because he liked it so much he'd asked me repeatedly where I'd gotten it. This sneaky grin came over his face and he looked me in my eyes and said, "Baby, where'd you get this from?" I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. The waitress's face got very red and she immediately turned to me and said "Oh! You bought it?" I said, "Yes, I got it for him as a Christmas gift last year. I got it from Rue 21." She didn't talk to him much after that, and I noticed my beverage stayed full.

It boggled my mind the blatant disrespect many of the women felt free to show. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that it bothered me a little that J would rather ignore the problem than speak up on it, but he made up for it with that little gem.

Turning the page

JGRunsTheCity did a post on her blog called Closing The Book on the Ex. As soon as I saw the title, I knew I had found some inspiration.

You'll recall in my last post that I said I wasn't sure what to do with The Series. I felt like continuing on with all things considered wouldn't be fair to J. His death is putting a lot of stuff front and center for me, that I have to deal with. Emotions I have to reconcile and I have no idea how to do that. That's for my counselor and I to sort out; however, I know one thing I can do.

All at once, J was the love of my life and I hated him; he'd make me smile and cry at the same time. My life was better and yet horrible when I was with him. One time, his mother and I had a long conversation where she told me that she knew in her heart that he was still alive only because of me but that she also knew I needed to get out of the cycle before it sucked the life out of me. A talk I had with one of my closest friends who probably knows more about how I honestly felt for J than anyone (even J) helped me put his life into perspective. J was on a train headed to this very point. My presence in his life delayed that train, but it didn't change it's route. Only J could make the decision to get off; he didn't. He chose to stay on and so here we are.

Even though all of that is true, through his depression and shortcomings, J was a beautiful person. He could be so sweet and caring. He told me one time all he ever wanted to do was make me laugh. He sent me a letter trying to explain his feelings about us no longer being in each others' lives. The first time I read it, I was furious with him for waiting until we got to that point -- where I really couldn't even muster the emotion to care -- to tell me how he felt. The second time I read it, months later, I was touched, but cautiously so. I hadn't read it again until recently and I've read it almost daily ever since. I think in that one letter he told me way more about what it was like to be him than our 4 years together ever could have. The back and forth; the wishing he could be better and not knowing how; secretly hoping somehow we would work out but knowing that it was probably never going to happen. And in learning all that about him, I realized we weren't all that different.

There's always going to be an ellipses at the end of our story. It will never be over because we had a lot of unfinished business. So yes, The Series will forever be this unfinished story; here on this blog and in my life. That's probably exactly how J would've wanted it. He liked keeping people guessing.

One Sweet Day...

Keith's post today inspired me as to what to say in my first real post in quite some time.

The story he tells reminded me of something that happened about a year and a half ago.

One of my friends, we'll call her Rachel, wanted to go to Atlanta for her birthday. She wanted it to be me, her and a third friend who we'll call Jenna. The three of us were friends in highschool, Rachel and Jenna played on the basketball team together. Rachel informally put me in charge of working out the individual logistics (making sure everyone knew where to be and when) while she found the hotel she wanted to stay in. We all agreed to split the cost of the trip 3 ways. This included a rental car, gas and the hotel. About 3 weeks before the trip, I called Jenna to try to confirm some things with her (primarily that she was still going). She was sorta all over the place. She told me that the week before our trip was her Spring Break and she was going to Panama City. She wasn't sure she'd have money for our trip. I told her that was fine, but to let me know as soon as possible whether or not she went to Panama.

The next weekend, I called her and asked if she'd gone to Panama. She said she hadn't and that she would go with us to Atlanta the following weekend. The morning of the trip, Rachel called to say that the rental car company needed her to produce utility bills in order to use her debit card for a rental. She asked if I'd be ok renting the car, I agreed. That afternoon, when we picked Jenna up at her mom's home (I drove down from my college and Jenna drove down from hers, to our hometown where Rachel still lived) Rachel told her how much money she owed each of us. Jenna told us that she had not gone to Panama City for Spring Break, but had actually gone to Destin, FL. One of her relatives had promised her some money for the Spring Break trip, but hadn't come through. She was sure, however, on this Friday afternoon, that he would put the money in when she called. As we drove the 2 hours to Atlanta, Jenna made repeated calls to this family member asking for the money. When we got to the city, Jenna didn't have much money and so Rachel ended up buying at least one meal for her, all the while, Jenna promised she'd get us some money.

The next day, one of Rachel's friends called and said she wanted to come down but had no way. I agreed to drive back up to pick up this friend. Jenna asked if we would drop her off at home so she could leave some of her clothes for her mom to wash before she got back and to get some money from her mom to pay us back. An hour after we had been back and just as I was headed from one side of the city to the other to pick up Jenna, she called me to tell me her mom was not letting her go back with us because she (her mom) would not be lending Jenna any money and Jenna couldn't pay us back.

The problem was, however, she had spent at least one night in a nice hotel that Rachel had paid for, and she had ridden down and back in a car I rented and on gas I paid for. There was no getting out of it by staying at home, now. She should have stayed at home before. Rachel quickly got on the phone and demanded her money. "I want my money when I get back, do you understand?" Rachel asked. Jenna said she'd have it for us when we returned; we had to bring her the clothes she left in the hotel.

The morning we left, I text Jenna that we would be back in 2 hours and she should be at home to get her stuff. She said she would. When we pulled up to her house almost 3.5 hours later, there was no one home and there had been no word from Jenna that she wouldn't be there. We left her stuff on the front porch (though Rachel was an advocate for keeping it as collateral) and left.

16 months later, I've forgiven Jenna though we've not ever spoken about the situation. I was horridly disappointed in her response -- not returning phone calls, continuing to promise the money but never sending it, etc... -- but I learned my lesson. Rachel, on the other hand, hasn't spoken to her since the last time she asked for her money, which was 15 months ago. This is a long-time friendship that is, at least for now, dead over money. Life is too short for all that.

2 weeks ago yesterday, my ex-boyfriend, the one I've talked about ad nauseum here, killed himself. I'd long known he was depressed, but actually thought that in the time we'd been a part, he'd found a healthy relationship and was doing better. He never made me think anything different and so I was surprised and saddened to hear of his death. I had a friend commit suicide in high school. The ex was there for that, as well. He and I had many conversations about suicide and we didn't agree on it. He saw it as a gift, I saw it as selfish. Like I said, he battled depression for a long time. It was so hard to watch.

There are countless things I planned to say to him in the next few weeks. Things I wanted him to know but wasn't sure he was ready to hear. I was ready for us to try a friendship again. I was ready for us to put the past behind us and move towards whatever sort of future we had. I had literally just forgiven him, truly forgiven him, for all the stuff he did to me when his mom called me to tell me he was gone.

Life is too short to forget how short it is. I truly thought I was doing him a favor by letting him enjoy his relationship without the added confusion of us trying to be friends again, though he had told me I was wrong about that, before. We all know we shouldn't think we have forever with someone, because the truth is that we don't, but that is a hard lesson to put into practice. We let so much other stuff get in the way.

Like Keith said he learned in his experience, as I learned when my friend committed suicide 5 years ago, as I've been reminded in the death of someone I loved more than even I seemed to realize, life is too short to think you have forever. The breakup of a long-time friendship over a couple hundred dollars sounds reasonable until you put it into perspective. Money can be repaid, life and time can not be recovered. I hope that Rachel and Jenna resolve their differences, but I'm more focused on being sure that I don't let life or time slip through my fingers over things beyond my control and things that, in the big picture, just don't matter...

Thinking...

I've done too many posts on "The Ex" to count, or even really to link here. But for anyone who might need to catch up quickly, check this one out.

I've spent the last week at home with my mother. It's been a well-deserved and very much needed time away from my life and all the craziness in it. Before I came down, I had a brief facebook exchange with The Ex's brother and I told him that if I could, I would visit. The Ex's family lives a little less than 2 hours from my mother. It wouldn't be totally outside the realm of possibilities for me to make a day trip down. I haven't seen his mother and brother in over a year, and I haven't seen his father in a little over a year and a half. It would be so nice to see them all -- however, I made no such trip.

This afternoon, I made a pit stop at home in the middle of a very busy day of visiting people. On my bed was a card. It had The Ex's family's picture on top and a brief synopsis of what's been going on with each of them. His mother sends these cards out during Christmas time, so my first thought was "this is either very early or very late..." Turns out, it was the latter. When I flipped the envelope over, I saw that it had been mailed to my mom's old address. I guess she just found it now that she's over in the old house cleaning it up, readying it for a new tenant (oh gosh, that's a whole other story...)

I've actually been thinking about The Ex a whole lot. We had a brief exchange a few weeks ago while he was visiting his family and I, ironically, was in what is now his home city, over 1200 miles away. What little we did talk about was fraught with unsaid thoughts and feelings. All of our interactions in the last 6 - 8 months have been like that. I have a lot I want to tell him, but I don't think any of it is appropriate, right now.

I've been trying to avoid contacting his mother, for a myriad of reasons, but I felt that I should let her know of my mother's new address. I don't know what will happen -- her e-mail replies to me have always been short and sweet, so I doubt this will lead to any continued e-mail exchange, however, it will be interesting to see what she says (or asks)...

I gotta get "The Series" back going, so you guys can see how all this plays out...

April 13, 2004

I’ve told this story countless times before. But I’m interested in seeing how a fresh tell of it will look.

Before I get into it, let me say I wanted to post this yesterday, but I was still on my “runaway” (instead of “getaway”) and had very limited internet access. I’m a little disappointed I couldn’t post this yesterday, but hey… we don’t always win.

Five years ago yesterday, a lot of things changed for me. The night of April 12, 2004, a little over a month before I was to graduate from high school, I found myself on the phone with my boyfriend unexpectedly. He called me while I was asleep. My phone never used to wake me up. No matter how loud it was, or how close it was, it never woke me up (wish I could still say that). I took the phone waking me up as a sign. He had told me that he was stressed about an upcoming test and I thought he was calling to relax.

The conversation never went to his history test. We chatted about mundane stuff at first and then he told me something odd was going on. He could see the lights of an ambulance at a nearby dorm (he was an on campus student). He put me on hold while he tried to figure out what was going on. He came back to the phone and said “Something’s wrong with Kris. I think he tried to kill himself…”

I stopped breathing for a second, but quickly smiled thinking of how I would go visit him in the hospital the following day and give him a hard time for scaring everybody like this.

Kris was a year under me and had, in the previous 3 years, become like a little brother to me and moreso to my BFF at the time. He spent every weekend at her house and her parents had adopted him as their son. However, Kris suffered from severe depression, but his relationship with the BFFs mom, who was also a faculty member at our school, got him the quick attention and appropriate medical support he needed. So for the rest of his freshman, all of sophomore and most of junior year, Kris seemed fine.

My boyfriend was silent for a moment and then said “I need to go. I’ll call you back…”

I immediately dialed up the BFF sure she had heard the news and would be able to confirm for me that Kris was alive. She answered the phone bawling. I was shocked she was taking it so hard. “So I guess you heard about Kris” I said with a little chuckle. I think my psyche went straight into denial mode because imagining anything other than Kris lying, very much alive, in a hospital bed was too much.

I heard shuffling and then the BFFs mom was on the phone. “How’s Kris?” I said, not wanting to sound too worried. The BFF’s mom quizzed me on how I had heard and then said, “Kris is gone…”

Have you ever seen a movie where a character learns bad news, a lot like someone died, and immediately cries out “No, that can’t be…” and if you’re cynical like me you think “Well why would they say that if it wasn’t true?” But I said “No, that can’t be… I just saw him…” 5 years later, and I remember those words so clearly because as ridiculous as they were, as non sequitur as they were, they were the last bits I had.

Earlier in the day, I’d spoken to Kris for the first time in what felt like forever, but really had been 3 days. Normally Kris spent the weekend at the BFFs house and we, much like older sisters, tried to keep him out of the room and the car when we were trying to have “girls time” or go somewhere. That weekend, though, he didn’t get leave from campus and didn’t come over. Monday morning, it hit me that I hadn’t seen him and when I asked the BFF she simply said that he hadn’t gotten leave. I found out later that morning that he was going to represent our school at a conference at the local college. I saw him briefly as he was preparing to leave. I can still see his bald head bent over as he tied his shoe. “Kris!” I shouted, “Why do you keep shaving your head?” I hated his bald head… I thought it was so awkward. He looked up at me and grinned.

Then the next day, Tuesday, I saw him in our student center. I grabbed him and told him not to move because I wanted to talk to him. I went back to listening to a friend and it seemed that in the same second I turned to Kris but he was gone. I whirled around the other way watching him wave to me as I called his name and he walked out of the door. That was the last time I saw him alive.

I called a few friends to tell them and every time I had to say it, it got more and more difficult to do. By the last person, I was crying uncontrollably. I thought I might cry all night, but the next thing I knew, my alarm was going off.
I could feel the sadness in the air as soon as my front tires hit the long driveway down into my school’s campus. No one knew what to say or how to feel. The only thing we could think was “why?” We all played the “What if…” game. I thought about what if I had called him later that afternoon, or sent him an IM like I thought about doing. I know that none of that probably would’ve changed what he planned to do, but I occasionally play the what if… game now.

Kris’s death still bothers me and 5 yrs later, I’m still not sure I’ve accepted it. I didn’t go to his class’s graduation because I found out they were saving a chair for him and I thought that would be too much. My mom wouldn’t let me go to OH for his funeral and in some ways, I think that’s added to me being able to pretend like it didn’t really happen.

That was a lot for a 17 yr old to experience. It did bring my friends and I closer. I found that we would call just to check on each other, sometimes.
After his wake, my friends and I were sitting in the student center joking to keep from crying and talking about how much we’d miss seeing him slumped over in a chair, covered in his black puffy jacket, asleep, as if he didn’t have a bed less than 100 yards away. One of my friends said, seemingly as an after thought: “I hope I don’t forget what he sounded like…”

I think that’s been my goal for the last 5 years, not to forget what he sounded like. Yet, I have – and so now I just want to remember him. I want to remember Kris so that his story doesn’t have to be anyone else’s story; so that my story doesn’t have to be your story.

To see a previous incarnation of this story, go here.

Contact Me Part Deux

The Good:
Yesterday I got an e-mail from a friend I graduated from college with. She shared a conversation she had with a co-worker about keeping up with friends from "before." In the time since I graduated high school, it's been interesting to me who I keep in contact with. I hope to always be in close contact with my friends from college who were so integral to my college experience. I absolutely couldn't imagine college without them. Staying in contact with them, though for some it will be difficult, is very important to me and clearly to her.

In that vein, I came up with an idea (this was actually back in November) that we should take yearly trips together. As many of as could. This year it's supposed to be to DC (selfish, though that may seem). We'll see how that pans out. I also heard of a group of friends who use a private blog to stay in touch. I really like that idea, personally. I don't know if I can sell it to the troops though.

The Bad:
This morning I woke up to a text from my ex. (Review this tragedy here and here) It said "Hey Shlee (<<<--- pet name that sorta makes me cringe, now). How are you?" He had sent it around 3:45am my time, 1:45am his time. Epic fail. I responded, when I woke up around 7:00am "I'm well. You?" When I got to work a little over an hour and a half later he had responded "I'm good." I thought to myself "this was stupid, and a waste of my time... is he just checking up on me?"

Since my last post on him, I've sort of come to this place where it is what it is between he and I. There is no real future for us, though he probably would argue differently (as we'll discover later). About 5 mins after I saw his response. He called me and after basically telling me he was upset we hadn't spoken in a while, proceeded to share with me all of his feelings about everything ranging from school to his own personal life. He's always battled with depression and that played heavily into our problems. I sat, and listened and finally had to tell him that I had to get back to work. I didn't know what to say to him, but I know he really wanted someone to listen.

One of my friends puts our conversations in a very good way "He molests your existence..." Not to make light of molestation, but that's what it feels like. I no longer blame him for not taking interest in my life -- he asks, but I don't feel like it's his business so I'm vague and occasionally I lie (like when he asked about new relationships). After our 45 minute conversation, he texts me to thank me for listening and to let me know that he loves me. He follows that text up with a comment about how if he weren't gay (he came out of the closte 4 years into our relationship) I'd be his "#1" whatever that means.

He still calls me his best friend. I feel like that title should be reserved for his current boyfriend or at LEAST someone he talks to more than once in a blue moon. I'm not sure why I still answer the phone. I'm sure it has to do with our very long and stupid history which maybe if I feel like it's worth the effort, I'll be more specific about.

My BFF who I love to pieces and I speak maybe once a week. Thanks to GChat we've been talking a little more but we're both so busy and it'll be almost a year since we've seen each other when I fly down to see him for his b-day. The dichotomy is striking, at least to me.

Vent

I have got to get this off my chest or I'm going to have a problem.

Here's the backstory:

About 2-3 wks ago I had a little issue with my living situation. Actually, I was put out. But it really was ok, I had somewhere to go and a long-term plan, so everything was fine. BUT, I had been through a whole lot so I was still a little down about how everything had played out with the lady who put me out. To top everything off, my infamous ex called me. His message said something like "I just wanted to call and catch up with you, since we haven't talked in a while."

Now let me add this: the reason we haven't talked in a while (and I've outlined this before) is because his boyfriend (yes, his boyfriend) didn't want him talking to me and I refused to talk to him if he had to sneak around to do it. Now, of course, it should be said that my ex is the KING of acting like things are ok when they're not, avoiding the white elephant in the room and flat out lying about things to make situations easier for him. SO, while all of that is true, he wanted to act like we hadn't talked because we'd both just been busy. Whatever. I can support that delusion. It's not that serious.

I'm not stupid. I'm not stupid, and I know him. I'm not stupid, I know him and I'm a student of people. He called me on a Friday night. We haven't spoken on a Friday night since we were together. Why? Because we both now have lives that are completely independent and irrespective of each other, not to mention that most people in relationships spend Friday nights with that special someone... so if he was calling me on a Friday night that HAD to mean him and his boyfriend were having some problems so that ol' boy wasn't around, which made me skeptical to call back... cause your ex calling when they have problems with the new relationship is NEVER good.

But curiousity killed the cat, and so the next day I did break down and call him back. And, just as I had suspected he and his boyfriend were having major issues and it seemed a break-up was coming. I didn't offer any opinions, though based on what he told me was going on, I was shocked that he had put up with it for so long. The guy I knew never would've stood for that, but, it did serve as a great reminder that the two of us have grown up a lot since "then."

I digress...

I told him about my situation, we talked about his and then 15-20 mins later the conversation was over, and of course he offered to call me back and of course (which is why I agreed) he didn't. A week after the fact, he sent me a text asking if everything in my world had gotten better. I figured that since he didn't call me back him and the b/f had gotten back together so I told thim that my world had gotten much better just as I was sure his had as well and he responded in agreeance.

Then, two nights ago, he called me and left a message saying that he was calling to check up on me since the last time we talked I "didn't sound so good..."

Umm... WHAT?

I automatically know that a)this is bullshit and b)he really just wants to talk to me, which is fine, but please, don't talk to me like I'm stupid.

I call him back, but we don't talk.

Then last night he calls me again. He can't talk, again, but he just wants to know if I'm ok.

Back in the day, my ex prided himself on being able to tell when something was bothering me but I wasn't being honest about it, and most times he was right on the money. But like I said -- we've changed. And I've been happier in the last 12 months than I have in the last 24 - 36.... so for him to fall right back into that "place" with me... saying "are you really?" in response to my "I'm ok..." pissed me off.

How dare he, I thought, call me a year later acting like he really gives a shit about me and my life.

Bottom line, it upsets me that STILL he's acting like nothing between us has changed when EVERYTHING has changed. I don't trust him, don't really like talking to him for too long, don't really care too much about his personal life... and aside from all that, I'm just no longer the person he used to know and instead of coming at me, trying to get to know me again, he's coming at me like I've been waiting for him to come back. As if when he broke my heart, I pushed pause...

Dude, quit joking.

Whether this is about a romance or not... him in my life would be a MAJOR step, and I've thought long and hard about how I would handle this time if it ever came (and, it may not yet be here) and I decided that if he tried to come back in a way that acknowledged that this means starting over, I could be receptive... but I see he's going to need one of my infamous "too frank for public consumption" talks. One where I say "Look. I don't know you, you don't know me and there is no way I'm going any further than where we are right now until you acknowledge that..."
I haven't said that yet because I keep hoping that either he'll go away again or he'll realize it on his own, but I'm remembering, now, one of the many reasons our relationship had to end. He took my loyalty for granted, and even now -- even when he knows that he's hurt me over and over and lied again and again, he still thinks the same ol' A.Smith will be right here waiting...

That chick had to take a nap for a little while, so she ain't available, right now...

When the Past Comes Back to Haunt You

Ok. The picture might be extra, but... sometimes you gotta exaggerate to make a point, no?

I was trying to switch this blog from being all about my sad, dark and depressed feelings about what's going on in my life to a place to talk about the awkward turtle moments/situations we all find ourselves in because we're human and we like human interaction. However, I suppose that sometimes, it's best to go back to your roots, right?

My ex called me last night. My phone is retarded, so he was sent straight to voicemail (although, perhaps my phone was really looking out for my best interest) and I innocently checked it. As soon as I heard his voice, I got sick to my stomach and really thought I might throw up, I exaggerate, not. There was absolutely a point where the sound of his voice was beautiful. These days, it makes me sick.

The sad part is, when he does call, he does seem to be genuinely interested in talking to me. Which I hadn't felt to be true about him during the last parts of our "relationship." But as I told someone else: in order for him to be a part of my life, I have to be a part of his life and I just am not interested in that.

Here's where I'm honest:
I don't want to be a part of his life because he's in a new relationship. I hate talking to him about his boyfriend (yes, his boyfriend...) because I feel like it's always a reminder that my worst fear came true (no, not that my boyfriend would leave me for another guy... that thought never crossed my mind). I had a fear that I would go through all the growing pains and bullshit with him that I did, only for him to go off and be a great person in someone else's life. I shared that with him once and he promised me it wouldn't happen like that. It did. I can hear it in his voice. His relationship now is exactly what I always hoped ours would be and it wasn't and to know that I gave 1000% just to have what he has and got nothing in return pisses me off.

I tried to be that person. I tried to pretend like it didn't bother me, but it did. I even pseudo-jokingly mentioned it to him and he tried to make me feel better by saying that this new guy would never understand him like I do because I saw him at his worst and was there with him through it. (I'll tell ya, my ex is a charmer). Unfortunately, I'm too well-versed in his bullshit and that comment only served to REMIND me of the bs I put up with, which pissed me off even more.

The straw, though, was when he basically told me he was sneaking around to talk to me. He was purposefully only talking to me in the early part of the day on his days off or during his breaks because he didn't want his boyfriend to know he was still talking to me. "Well, if he (his boyfriend) was talking to one of his exes like I talk to you, I'd be jealous, too." he said. I was hurt, PISSED and disappointed. Here I am, pretending like it doesn't kill me to talk to you about your new and functioning relationship and you're hiding from your boyfriend?? Dude. Please.

So I decided I didn't need to talk to him anymore. I didn't need to make myself uncomfortable for the sake of our "long-standing" history. I thought about whether or not to let him know my decision and also decided he didn't deserve to know and the ensuing argument/discussion wouldn't be worth it. I also wanted to see how long it would take him to call me.

He did call me after he knew I re-located to find out how my new job/life was going. The 5 minute conversation we had was PAINFUL. It was like I was frozen. I couldn't really contribute purposefully to the conversation, because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and eventually it did. He mentioned something about him and his boyfriend and that was all it took for me to break, emotionally. I decided then and there that I was not going to call him or make any attempts to keep up as hard as I knew that would be. I needed to move on and be done and at the time I thought to myself "perhaps this is something I can come back to, but right now, I need to not..."

And I was successful. Unlike previous times, his call was not prompted by a text from me, it was of his own accord. And I'm sure that if he called me yesterday, he'd been thinking about doing it for the past couple of days. Which is fine. I don't think he has dealt with us being over the way he should have. I suffered through it (not that my suffering means I did anything spectacular) while he jumped right into another relationship. In my opinion all he's doing is postponing the inevitable because one day he'll have to deal with the loss -- some loss.

I do want to be honest/clear something up here:
The time period between when we were together and now has allowed me to understand a lot about myself and him and what happened between us (this relationship definitely proved to be one of those "can't see the forest for the trees" types of things) and in those realizations I came to understand that while I might miss what we had, I don't really miss HIM. Because to be honest, I no longer know him and the more we speak, the more I see we've both changed so much since we were once together. That's not to say that we've become two people who are incompatible, but rather I can't honestly say I miss a person I don't know. So when we talk and I'm reminded that we don't have what we once had (as messed up as it may have been) it's like opening a sore that hasn't had time to fully heal yet.

So, am I going to call him back? Probably... but hopefully I'll be able to genuinely have a conversation (even if it's only 3 minutes that I can make it through) with him... we'll see...