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completely fucking batshit crazy.

July 6, 2010


I want to say it didn’t matter.


I want to say I didn’t feel anything.


I even want to say I was completely relieved when she left. I was… but not… completely.


I just don’t understand, really.

Basically… my Ultimate Crazy was the first girl I was ever with. I was a pancake… she flipped me. And not in a first-girlfriend kind of way. More of a… let-me-tell-you-all-these-terrible-amazing-things-until-you-end-up-in-my-bed-and-then-I’ll-ditch-you-to-deal-with-it-and-all-your-brand-new-issues-of-omigod-that-was-with-a-girl kind of way.


She changed my life… and destroyed my heart.


She was my friend. And she spent six months trying to talk me out of being straight… eventually succeeding because I couldn’t ignore how I felt anymore. And then gave me the most emotionally-charged-romantic-vulnerable-heart-fully-exposed-end-of-the-world night of my life.


Followed pretty much immediately by the most drama-filled-exposed-heart-now-ripped-open-can’t-stop-bawling-or-doing-fucking-stupid-ass-shit-end-of-the-world year of my life.

The story you can probably guess, and if you can’t – well. It’s too long and obnoxious to re-tell here at this point in time. The point today is that she was at the 4th of July party yesterday (Sunday). I haven’t seen her in well over a year.


And. Even though she never ever hangs out with us any more, I knew she’d be there. I just… did.


I just…


I want to say that I didn’t start mildly shaking as soon as I saw her on the porch (oh, guess I’ll wait to shoot the .22 then). Even though I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see her. I want to pretend my heart didn’t still feel like it was caught in a vise to look at her. I want to pretend the reason I didn’t look at her or stay in the same room with her was because it’s actually less awkward that way.


But… the real reason is… I literally cannot make eye contact with her. Emotionally… it is still a very very bad idea.

What. The. FUCK.

I also want to pretend I didn’t start crying as soon as I got in the car to drive home.

However.

I don’t understand any of this. I don’t think about her. I don’t hurt like I did. I don’t… want anything from her – mainly because the lesson that she really is completely fucking batshit-crazy and will hurt me yet again if given the chance FINALLY FUCKING SUNK IN.

But that was two years ago. Soooooooo… what the fuck?

Rationally, I tell myself and others that things that feel like this are not real – in the sense that they mean you’re “in love” with that person. That it is something special and… soul-mate-y (ahoy! Ha ha…*ahem*). They are instead close akin to addiction. I believe this because I learned that lesson first fucking hand and I had yet to be proven wrong. Rationally, I tell myself and others that all you need is time to get over these things when they end. You need to stop engaging these things, because the only reason you do is for the high (hence the addiction).


Rationally, I tell myself and others that… “those people” that just “get you” don’t exist. You just need to stay the fuck away from the crazy ones that you think do (and yet are still clearly crazy) until you get over your… addiction.


I knew these things to be true because I had fucking lived this. I knew what I felt with her wasn’t real, wasn’t special – because of the way things fell apart (fell apart? Try were-fucking-shattered-due-to-that-drama-hurricane-that-came-through-here). I also knew that it was only time and space that had finally healed things – and brought me clarity into what they really were.

And yet.

My friend Simone called it “residue”. That my body had just learned, after all the fucking classical conditioning that, let’s be honest, I put it through, to react to her presence in this way. That, in addition, she represented this whole horrible life-altering-gut-wrenching time in my life. This makes sense as well… but…

I am driving home and there are these fucking tears everywhere and I am not even exactly effing sad. I am not feeling… hurt… I am mainly at a fucking loss.

Driving home, there are two thoughts in my head.


One: Areyoufuckingseriouswhatthefuckisthis??? And that I generally have no idea why I am crying.


Two:

…. some things just never change. Not for me…. and… not for her.

One of these thoughts is rational. The other is completely not. And yet… I cannot explain it away. Part of me absolutely unquestionably believes it to be true.

Well. Whatever. I have no words (other than the ones I already used.) But I have none for how this made me feel. I don’t have an explanation for my reaction – not even plain ol’ sadness at seeing her. Not even the old hurt and anger and disbelief. I mean… I am definitely sad on some level… it’s like an old bruise that never ever goes away but… not like it used to be. And… the majority of it defies definition.

I got nothing.

OK. That’s not true. I do have the ability to put this back down, despite not understanding it. Despite how it still makes me feel. I do have the ability, fi-na-ly, to not engage this.


Because – despite whateverthefuck it is that I feel (that I would bet I am still not fucking alone in), whatever it is that still affects me, after all this time and all this heartbreak and outside of all my rational arguments… I finally know that nothing else matters but this:


She really is completely fucking batshit-crazy and will hurt me yet again if given the chance.

I do, finally, know better than to give her that chance.

… I know she’d take it.

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16 Comments leave one →
  1. June 24, 2011 4:28 am

    Dude – I’m really sorry this happened to you. However, you sound like a batshit crazy chick in your rant.

    Sorry….just saying.

    • June 26, 2011 5:48 pm

      Hmmm… I would agree. I think that’s part of the point – what I was feeling *was* irrational, and I couldn’t find an explanation for it. I still felt it. I still cried for no apparent reason. However. I wouldn’t say I was ranting. More of a stream-of-conscious thing. I wasn’t speaking in anger, or even raising my voice… while typing.. Try reading it with more of disbelief in my tone instead.

      I’d argue the rational, less batshit crazy part comes with letting go of those emotions, no matter how strong they are.

      Finally, I’d make the point that I think many people have actually experienced this and know what I was talking about when I wrote that. Curious: have you been through significant heartbreak with someone you felt a connection with you couldn’t explain and defied reason?

  2. December 16, 2011 1:38 pm

    sweet tap-dancing jeebus! you wrote exactly how i was feeling about an ex over the summer. shitty thing is that i wasn’t able to leave like you did as we were at a 5 day music festival, and his tent was 4 down from mine.

    thank you

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