i ain’t looking to fight with you

I was screwing around on my old blog, adding a piece I found to my poetry blog, and I discovered that Blogger has this function where people can ‘follow’ your blog. And I had a ‘follower’. And that follower was my ex-girlfriend.

I don’t know why, but I always get kind of freaked out when I find out that she’s keeping tabs on me.  It’s not like I never think about her or our relationship or shit like that, it’s just that I always feel very detached from the whole experience when I do.  After we broke up, I literally took damn-near everything I had of hers and put it in a box that I hid in the closet.  There are some things (CDs she gave me, a clock, and the hippie skirt) that are still hanging out in my room, but all of the notes and any original hard copies I have of shit I wrote for/with her are tucked away and collecting dust.

A few months after we had broken up (and right after I had sex for the first time with another person), we got together to discuss what had happened and What We Were Going To Do Now.  She’d been trying to re-establish contact in ways that I wasn’t comfortable with nor interested in and I thought, at the time, that we were being adults about the whole situation and it was a good thing.  She ended up giving me everything I ever gave her in a garbage bag and more or less told me that I had completely fucked up her life and I was never to talk to her again.

I went home after that and broke down crying in my mum’s arms.  Nothing had ever hurt like that before.  Nothing hurt like that again until last October when I spent the entire night crying hysterically on Matt P’s couch and wondering if I would ever be happy again.  That’s the kind of shit you never recover from, I think.  I definitely don’t think I’ve yet recovered from that awful April morning, and that was ages ago.

I had this really incredible moment this week.  I went up to Chicago Thursday night.  Randy picked me up from the train station and we went back to his apartment and watched Back to School in his room.  And we were just laying on his bed, laughing at Rodney Dangerfield and Robert Downey Jr., and everything felt right, you know?  Everything was just as it was.  And I knew that we, Randy and I, were going to be okay.  We were going to be together for the rest of our lives because that’s just kind of how G-d intended it to be.  And all of the bullshit that’s happened over the past year or so — the breaking up and the confusion and the fighting and the fucking around and the finding someone new — all of that put Randy and me right where we should be.  And now I have this person who is one of my very, very best friends, who I can tell anything to and who can do the same to me.  And it’s perfect.

And I was so relieved.  And so happy.  And for one of those very brief moments that happen to me once every ten years or so, I felt like maybe I was doing something right after all.  That maybe I wasn’t as big of a fuck-up as I feel like I am most days.  All of the worry and the clutter and the frustrated tears just sort of fell away and I just laughed at Rodney Dangerfield and poked Randy in the belly and it was okay.  Everything was okay.

I wish moments like that happened more often.  But I’m thankful for the ones that do.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Asbjorn
    Jan 04, 2009 @ 16:51:05

    The trick in being is to know that there will always be joy if you are open to it. The truth is also that there will be that pain and pain that is worse along the way. But pain is a sign that you are functioning, that you are alive, that you are paying attention.

    Allow your joy. Don’t spend life anticipating your pain, but when it comes know that there will be joy again some day.

    As for the relationships of the past: they offer ways to see yourself that you can’t at the time. So remembering them is useful and can produce some art too. We learn, we dance, we make love, the world turns, the days grow into nights. Be happy and do not be afraid of those things that make you unhappy. The Lady hums along with the great concert we make for Her.


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