There’s a bunch of ickiness inside. After I just wrote about ‘embracing the ick’, too…
Oh Universe. You so funny…
I am almost free from Jarrett.
I was talking with my mom earlier today when I got a call from the leasing office. Jarrett and his new roommate are approved for the lease. All they needed me to do was come in and sign a Roommate Release form, saying that I was no longer obligated to the apartment and that I turn over the security deposit to Jarrett and the new guy.
I hand over $700 to them, and it’s done.
Money I will never see again. On top of my tablet, my microwave. The $60 he still owes me for last month’s bills.
All of the hours of my life. All of the tears I cried. All of the times I tried to talk to him, to let him know that I needed more from him in the relationship. That I felt alone even when we were less than a foot apart.
All of the stress, worry, hurt.
All of these emotions.
All of the love that I felt. The future that I thought we would have.
If I let go of all of that and signed the paper I could be free…
I signed it.
Kari said she would email me a copy once Jarrett and the new guy signed it. That way I have something for my own records.
It’s almost over, and all I feel is a swarm of ‘stuff’ inside.
In my head I feel like I ‘should’ feel relief, joy, even happiness to be so much closer to being done with all of it.
But I don’t feel any of that.
The few times that I’m able to wrangle one of the threads of emotions out of the giant yarn ball inside of myself the feelings are so intense that all I feel is hurt. Pain. So I push it away.
I feel like it’s unjust.
I have done so much. So much to make his life easier before and after our breakup.
Why couldn’t I have my money back?
I don’t ‘need’ it. But it’s mine. I earned it. I worked for that $700 and more. Why can’t you be fair and return what is mine? Why do I have to keep giving to get away from you? And why does it have to hurt when I do?
Why can’t I be happy that you’ll be out of my life, like what I wanted? Why do I have to remember the times you hugged me? The times you made me smile and laugh? Why do I have to remember that I loved you and that this wasn’t what I wanted?
Why can’t you treat me the way I treat you?
I don’t think that’s asking too much. To be treated fairly.
Why does being free make me feel so alone? Why do I feel like a failure when I’m closer than ever to my goals? To my roots?
I think it’s because I feel like I failed you. Us.
I feel like if I had tried harder. Always harder. How it’s never enough and I could have always given more. Been more understanding. Waited longer. Tried being more direct.
I feel like it was my fault even though I know it wasn’t. Logically. Looking purely at detached, emotionless facts, I know I wasn’t the one falling short.
But right now I’m so far from the left side of my brain. I’m entrenched in my right side, my emotions. The section of my brain that is still a four year old girl who sees things in black and white, and who cries out that this isn’t fair. None of this is fair. How could you do this to us? To me?
You said you loved me and I believed you.
I feel lied to. Betrayed.
And yet I am still the one who has to give. Relinquishing possessions that you don’t deserve. That you don’t appreciate. That you look over and take for granite.
It’s not fair, and I wish I could hate you. I wish I could be one of those people who can hold a grudge and be petty. I wish I could have had it in me to not sign that paper because I deserve the things that belong to me.
But I can’t. I had to sign it because I know you have nowhere else to go. That you don’t have the time, or money of your own to find another apartment before the first. I can’t find it in myself to be angry enough to justify screwing you over.
All I can think of is how I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me, so I can’t do it to someone else. Even though so much of me feels like you deserve it.
Part of me desperately wishes I could be that vindictive and spiteful. Part of me wants you to hurt and agonize as much as I have over these past months. And that makes me feel small and shallow.
I should be better than that. I should wish the best for you. And part of me does. Honestly, I want you to be happy and successful. I want you to do well in life.
But part of me hurts anew. And I don’t know what to do with these emotions except bleed them out onto my keyboard. Into a place that you’ll never go, and page you’ll never read. All of this discord caused because I thought you were different. Because I believed what you told me, what you showed me.
Because I believed a lie. And part of the emotions are feelings of foolishness.
How could I believe the things you said? How could I think what we had was real? Would last?
How silly and childish, girlish, of me to believe that you were my forever. How silly of me to love unconditionally.
I know in time I will feel better. I know this is just the overwhelming rush of emotions. I know today, and maybe tomorrow will be hard and that I’ll be withdrawn and introspective. I know that I will come through this and be stronger for it. Happier.
I know this is the right choice and the right direction. And I know that deep down, somewhere under all of this swirling confusing hurt, I am happy. Truly.
But right now I can’t feel that happiness. And I’m sorry I can’t.
I’m sorry that I still love you and that this hurts for me. Even after everything you have done.
I’m sorry I gave you everything, all of myself, and that it wasn’t enough.
I’m sorry I still miss you.