vulnerability hangover

Okay but what was the point of that. Why did we open our hearts up and why did I cry and why did we journal about each other if none of that changes anything.

This is my stubborn contradiction. I crave closeness. Emotion. Connection. Then I get it but sometimes it feels suffocating. I float out of myself and ask “why did you do that? was there a reason to open up those old wounds?”

We broke up three years ago and I knew I was over him. We are still in touch. He mails me postcards but I look at them with a kind of detached fondness, oh that’s nice. But last night I was typing on my phone, bearing more of myself than maybe he deserved to see. Tears pouring because something had been newly reopened and for what purpose. Healing? Is that what this is?

At what point are we just picking at things for the sake of feeling something? What’s the difference between “doing the work” and just plain hurting yourself?

“I’ve changed so much.” he said.

“You have and you haven’t.” I replied.

write where it hurts

I read a playwright’s bio because I want a reference for my own. Hers is a page long, spectacular. Award winning. Artistic residency. Mine is a paragraph.

At my most masochistic, I scroll through a theater’s “Past Playwright Fellows” section to see if any of them have blonde hair. They don’t.

Obviously that doesn’t matter. Everything relies on the writing. Regardless of what’s happening or how you feel. Did you write it down? It is a muscle and a meditation practice. It is blissful catharsis and maddening frustration. And you show up for it, always. Look at whatever is felt and write it out.

After work, he comes over and reminds me of my masochism in other ways. It looks scary but is consensual. Pain on my terms.

Then he let me in on darkness from his past. Traumas that bubbled up when he saw a play. Memories that he can only start to process now. None of my words felt helpful so I just listened and wrapped myself tighter around him. Closeness.

Do I write a play about the healing power of getting my hair pulled? Do I want to turn a spotlight on something so raw?

He went home and I fell asleep at 9:30. Woke up feeling clear.

Then this morning my ex revealed that he is also polyamorous. This wasn’t a surprise but it did set off a lot of sparks in my brain. Questions. Curiosity. Anxiety (because of course).

When we were together, I was so scared and jealous at the end. I shoved all of it away because my heart was bruised. I was scared of that pain.

But why did I act like that? If we are the same, then why couldn’t I have let him do what I also wanted to do? Why did it take pandemic loneliness for me to lean into this?

He asked me if I was dating multiple people. I really did not want to know if he was. The old fear bubbles right back up. Dating people does not mean you are not available. But tell that to my primal abandonment terror.

And anyway this ex is now in a completely different state so what’s the point, what are you even feeling?

It’s mostly just the ego not wanting to be hurt again. Especially not by this person who has accidentally hurt it so many times already.

Oops sorry I didn’t know how to communicate and neither did you so we left marks and scars on each other’s hearts.

I grow and make choices. And I still get hurt and skitter off like a frightened animal at times. I guess none of this was meant to make those feelings go away. But at least we’re still in each other’s lives, even after all of that.

Like a Bad Telenovela

The other day, out of the blue, my ex sent me a Facebook note that just said “Hi.” We broke up a few years ago (in a spectacularly messy fashion), but had apologized for hurting each other and remained acquaintances. So I replied, “hey there, how are you?”

Probably should not have done that.

He wrote a massive reply that detailed his raging, unmanaged depression. Told me that he was struggling with his girlfriend (who he found just 2 weeks after I left—red flag 1), that he didn’t have any friends in Boston and just wanted to talk to someone who would listen (red flag 2), that he wanted to ask me some questions if-it-was-okay about when we were together (RED FLAG 3).

And on top of all of it, that my best friend’s husband (who he’d only met once) had been writing him drunk, lascivious messages on Facebook. Telling him to strip for money “as a joke.” And my ex let this happen more than once, because he was hoping to make a new friend.

Oh my god.

That same friend’s husband was shamelessly (drunkenly) flirting with my current boyfriend a couple weeks ago, in front of his own husband. Except in this situation, my boyfriend got up and left the party when it was too much. That made the husband freak.

This whole thing makes me feel sick and sad. I don’t know how to talk to my friend about this, but I want nothing to do with his husband ever again.

I’ll figure how to reply to the other stuff later. If I even should.