Thursday, January 12

"i can draw a line between, who i am and what i've seen"

...but it's still just as dark at night.
                                   -Bryan Fenkart, My Prayer

the other day i denied the dreaded "facebook friend request" from an ex-whatever, who for far too long was The Guy I Couldn't Get Over.  just over a year ago, i received the same request from the same Guy I Couldn't Get Over, and  a rare moment of strength spiked like an irregular heartbeat over my steady pulse of weakness for him, and i denied him then as well.

but a year ago, for whatever reason, i felt compelled to relieve him of whatever guilt he was carrying around, even though these attempts were and are born out of manipulation and mind games rather than his genuine interest in my clever status updates and WWE YouTube links. 

or maybe it is genuine.  but our virtual friendship was just a toxic crack into our immature, nonexistent real life relationship, maintaining our affinity for unhealthy habits we excuse away with the stupidity of our twenty somethings, not knowing how to navigate the uncharted Age of Technology--an age which betrayed me by unblocking him when I switched to Facebook's "Timeline" format.

regardless of virtual profiles and ethermessages, he's mostly likely reaching out to me in an attempt, consciously or subconsciously, to sabotage his relationship with his current girlfriend, who he already cheats on, so that he can drown in the deep end of the pain inflicted by his broken engagement.  and with a painful goodbye to an innocent girl who caught on too late, he will wonder why oh why he took the dive in the first place.  there was a time when I was sympathetic to this once, and for far too long, but this pain manifested itself into brief spurts of torture victimizing me and whatever cute girl may have caught his attention in his Hoboken shithome pub. my threshold has far been broken.

despite my thorough and most likely upsettingly accurate analysis of his current state, based on our 0 interactions in the past year, it is no longer my concern.   i'm done listening to whispers of his heart on his sleeve; of pretending our surface flirtations haven't seen far deeper realities; of challenging him to be a better man at the sacrifice of myself.

so, the girl that just a year ago was apologizing for her inability to resist him and wistfully singing along every Dave Matthews that my iTunes seemingly not-so-randomly shuffled now blares Lelia Broussard's finest tunes (Masquerade, Something True, You're Not Fooling Anyone), with a confident strut into her new life, no longer looking back at the guy who needed his fix and little girl who once supplied him.  the needle no longer stabs both ways, feeding my veins with poison disguised as love's complications.  my blood pumps only with positivity and strength.  he wears wounds older than my scars, picking at them with sharpened nails of nostalgia and what could have been.

the girl who was once pathetic over The Guy now finds The Guy...well, pathetic.

i'd never seen him as pathetic before, and though this term seems harsh, i mean it with it's definition, not condescension, though allowing myself the anger i deserve is cathartic.  looking at all experiences through the filters of who you've grown into reveal so much about the decisions that you made in the past.  they can color in silver linings and true colors, and even if they clash, the wisdom gained is it's own value.

i don't want to be with someone who chooses suffering over healing, who creates their own pain through mistakes that they know they are making, who won't address his Achilles heel, and creates his own tennis elbow.  it once felt so stubbornly right, and now i could not be convinced there is anything more wrong (okay, maybe like evil dictators and felons and stuff).  and for so long i thought the pieces would fit if i could just smooth out what was rough around my edges.

it's important to reexamine keystones of our lives when we can do so with understanding and compassion for who we were and shed the masochism that comes what was once such a defining pain.

Facebook is just tomorrow's MySpace anyway.  (please go like this on Facebook).


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