You Won’t Even Believe What Just Happened…

I thought it truly was over. I hadn’t talked to her since October.

Our last real conversation:

Me: But hey – C’est la vie.
Me: Although, I will go to the (Redacted) to sign the (Redacted).
Her: Ah ok.
Her: Say hi to Ms. (Redacted)
Her: I will try to visit them too, someday.
Me: If you visit while I’m still in (Redacted) – I’ll go with you.
Her: Sounds good.
Her: But I wont be able to do things more than friendly.
Me: Oh yeah.
Her: I guess I’ll say hi to Mrs. (Redacted) for you.
Her: Wouldn’t want you to lose control.
Her: 🙂
Her: I wouldnt lose control, I kind of like someone now.
Me: Good luck with that.
Her: Thanks.
Me: hahahaha
Her: What?
Her: Why would I need luck if I like someone?
Me: hahahaha
Me: I’m not laughing at that.
Her: What are you laughing at?

Sure, I kept upbeat with the occasional “Wouldn’t want you to lose control”, but what she said next just took the wind right out of my sails. It was like she took a shiv and plunged it into what remained of my heart. I wasn’t laughing in a good way. I was laughing, hysterically inside, like when you know it’s over and there is nothing you can do but laugh about it. I felt dead inside that I really had no more chance. I couldn’t bear to speak with her any longer She had finally move another and there was no way I could ignore it any longer, with the evidence looking me in the face.

I never spoke much about this story, because doing so gives me the chills. I’ve forced myself to shut about it to parents, friends, and family as much as I can. Because, I could go on for hours, days, weeks, if not years on this subject. Analyze everything. Sure, there was a tonne of game to learn from it, but as I go through every word we spoke to one another, I’d relive every interaction and that in itself was no small torture. On my blog I have a trajectory, of going through my high-school years the painful lessons I’ve learned. She is simultaneously my greatest success and my greatest failure. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for her.

And it killed me. That I never sealed the bond. I had this nagging suspicion, that my memory would be wiped from her memory, with the next guy who is able to escalate enough to deflower her. The only way I was able to deal with it in the end, was the nuclear option, of which she was so afraid. I had not talked to her since October, when she spotted me on Skype   after I had deactivated Facebook and not been on for a month. With RIP as my last status. The only, final bond between me and her, was that we were still “friends”, on Facebook. And I had not deleted her from Skype, nor her me. The last time she was online, visibly, was in January. And I think that every time she is online, it is because she hopes I see and that I will talk to her. I think this, because in February 2012, she started appearing offline during our FB and Skype conversations so that we wouldn’t be interrupted by her friends. She’d only appear online so I’d see it and initiate conversation. I thought that the fact that she hadn’t been online since January meant that she’d had given up hope.

I wanted so desperately to talk to her again, but I couldn’t. For every time we talked after the final “break-up” (we had labeling issues), her memory, in my head, of being submissive, wanting to cook for me, and to be dominated by me, got diminished. She no longer felt it anymore. The I love you, but I am not love with you. The kiss of death. I could have died happy in November. December even. Fucking January too. Such is the power she came to have over me. Rivaling the power, I once had, and maybe still have over her.

But the other day, she appeared online again. I couldn’t bear to look so I went off of Facebook. When I returned to it later, I saw a big red, 1 on top of my message icon. I thought to myself, “It can’t be her, can it?”

It was. For her Art School in Turkey, she’s studying abroad near my hometown. She misses me a lot and wants to see me again….

~Wald

15 thoughts on “You Won’t Even Believe What Just Happened…

      • How many hours have we talked about this? At least a hundred by my last count. Dude, I understand, but you’ve got to let this girl go. That’s the only way she might come back but I figure by this time you’ve figured that you’re too good for her,

          • That chick cannot be worth that much fella. I’ve railed the daylights out of women here and abroad. I am telling you that she is nothing.

            I have had three women in my life I would have considered marrying. Only one of them I did. Is she the one? YES, but not because of some over hyped fictional romance bull shit; but because even when skeletons from my old closet bit me in the ass, and when I was anything but perfect; SHE STAYED AND DID NOT CHEAT. She is also foreign; and comes from a good home. I came from a broken home. She sees my family, and cannot believe. Yet she remains.

            The fact is this, unless someone sticks with you through thick and thin, you know? Like when your own bull shit blows up in your face; they stay by you. Unless of course you are nailing everyone but her. No one wants to be the cuckold punished.

            However, if she loves you, she loves you not when you are perfect alone. But when you suck ass like nobody’s business. Even when you are an absolute embarrassment they are still invested in you.

            If you are not her investment now, you never were.

            Finding a woman who even perceives you like that is a rare bird. I found mine, and it is still no guarantee. Love and war have their risks. They also have their rewards.

            You have to figure it out.

            • She was a foreign one and had many qualities that made her one I’d consider wifing up. Though logically, she was not much younger than me and came from a broken home.

              In the end I knew it wasn’t going to last I suppose, but I wish she was less of a practice girl. There also a few other reasons which I am beginning to understand, which cause me to get so hung up over it.

              Still, I get what you are saying. I’ve got more girls to fuck in my future before I truly know what is good, what is not, and what, maybe, just maybe, is worth holding on to.

            • @ Wald

              “Though logically, she was not much younger than me”

              What do you mean?

            • If I ever get married, my future wife would be 10+ years younger than me.

              This girl was not that much younger than me.

  1. Toxic ground, mate. Be very careful if you haven’t got your shit in order with her and to me it sounds like you haven’t.
    I’d advise skipping out on any invitation she sends you because it won’t be worth the pain. She’s your epiphany girl as I wrote about last week. I have one myself, and I can say comfortably that if I see her again, despite going through a lot of pain because of her before, I won’t get hurt again. I don’t know if the same can be said about you with your girl and I’d hate to hear about you going through some shit. Stay strong, brother.

    • It’s toxic ground every time I touch the topic. I know you thought the April Fool’s part was gay, but even still, writing about this girl was tough. I’m definitely not ready to speak or be in contact with her again. It would only make things worse.

      I still debate on whether I should finishing the nuke job (i.e. deleting Facebook and Skype). The not speaking has helped.

  2. Take some psychedelics. Go where it hurts. Then you will be rid of this forever. Do not hold on to the fantasy. Allow yourself to reject and lose even the greatest dream.

    Your emotions and thoughts feel familiar to mine.

    Seeing how intensely this hurts you, wonder whether there may be some mommy issues to be resolved. If not made conscious, that kind of bullshit gets projected on all your girl relationships. It is quite a bother.

    • Do you realize this is an April Fool’s post?

      Besides that – I plan to do so some day. You’re not the only one suggesting it. My best friend does also.

      As for the mom issues, I wonder if it is a coincidence that as my relationship with my mother is better (I love her as a flawed human, not idealistic version of my mother), so are mine with women.

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