The obstacles you have to climb to truly trust are momentous. And how easily it is lost...
It started out in the dark nights of my teens, before I even realized it, before I was even open. I was wrapped up in a dire situation, one that was slowly draining all of the life out of me. And somehow, at the end of it all, when I was feeling unrepairable, I found him.
Him being my ex... of almost three months now. Once upon a time the maybe love of the rest of my life, the other end of each breath I took for the last six years of my life.
It started out the innocent way that many things do... I will always remember the bright, crisp day that he first said I love you. The many nights spent wrapped up with each other, hidden from the rest of the world. He was my first... so many firsts. First true long term relationship, first roommate...
But through all the years, we grew apart. First, slow, tiny fractures that one could barely see, except for in the darkest days and nights. Small arguments, the beginning of the resentment that would one day find us crushed underneath.
Though I absolutely am in no way perfect, or even remotely close to be honest... I gave it my all, all the trust, hope, patience and love that I could possibly muster. Through dark days of no work, no affection... Somehow we lost our way.
Some of our troubles certainly came from the fact that we both suffered from sometimes debilitating anxiety. His, social, mine just a general inability to process certain stress. Both of us had been damaged before, cheated on, left for fools. The obstacles you have to climb to truly trust are momentous. And how easily it is lost...
He was out of work for a year and a half... and suffering from a depression which left him unable or unwilling to be intimate with me. I felt lonely, cut off, unwanted... and started to cope in the most destructive ways that I knew how... I began to go to raves. Come home so drained and closed from substances, I was unable to truly carry on conversation let alone the type we so often seemed wrapped up in those days. He caught me flirting with a fellow raver, and that was the beginning of the end of it all.
Certain times, no matter how much you love someone, there are resentments and hurts that don't just heal themselves from the beauty of your love. Some things stay broken, wrong, no matter what measures you put in place. By the time we tried to repair it, to resurrect US in a sense, it was much too late. So many things that both of us would never recover from.
The fighting grew worse, almost to the point of violence. Certainly to the point of screaming into each other's faces, slamming doors, and me, fleeing on a drive or to a friend, just to escape the overwhelming grip of it all. And then came the drugs... though we had always been recreational users throughout our relationship, something changed, decomposed. Soon the monthly habit became the weekly habit became the daily habit... and it warped our relationship beyond salvation.
I lost touch with reality, perhaps willingly... To avoid dealing with the true reality of the situation. Our health plummeted... At our worst points we would only leave the house for work, and even then would find a way to stay high. My every waking moment became a horrible repetitive pull to get high, stay high, and float above the whole miserable mess that we had created. My depression and anxiety truly became overwhelming. Somehow we fell into this insane pattern of spending all of our time together, jealously hoarding each other, and just hiding out from the entire rest of the world.
I lost all of my friends for over a year, lost touch with my family... The only thing I knew was him, and drugs, and the restless misery that was tumbling around inside of me. Our every waking moment together had turned into arguments, rage, anger, resentment. The pills we were taking also have the effect of making one very short tempered... I'm sure it did not help.
And finally, one fight after the next... I still feel the ridges and crevices inside of me, the rough edges carved out by the intense anger that had built up inside of me. At him, at the state of my life, at how terrible I felt emotionally (and physically at that point, as we would get sick when we tried to stop it)... And finally the night came that I did it.
I finally left.
After all that, all of the beautiful and terrible things that we had done together, to each other... It was over. Though he changed his tune soon enough to see if maybe we could take some time apart, to work things out. I knew... I knew it in the pit of my bones. I never thought I would be without him, and there it was. The end. The end I had rehearsed over and over until I thought it would slip out almost easily, like a war cry. How wrong you can be about the most important things sometimes...
We are still in the throes of the attempt to be friends, the picking up of the many, many pieces left behind. So much has changed, in only three months, that I'm not even sure where to begin. I have a new presence in my life, and it is amazing, and beautiful, and different... I am slowly climbing up the treacherous pit of depression and drug addiction, with amazing support and people in my life. But no matter how far I've come already, how much looks different from this vantage point, I still am not quite sure exactly how to let him go.
He became such a part of me, part of the fabric of my being, a constant thought in the back of my mind. I have never been as comfortable with anybody as I was able to be with him. Never quite fit so well into the crook of someone else's arms or soul... And now, we've both done things that make it impossible to ever repair any type of friendship out of the situation.
I know I can pick up the pieces, move on, in one piece, without too many regrets. I've done it before, and probably will do again... But right now I just feel pegged down, trapped by the weight of all of those failed years.
The re-education, creation of my psyche. How on Earth will I really, finally be able let you go?