Miss Katie.
Hey there.
Here we are.
One of the first and only Friday's where I'm home, but not hoping and waiting for you to come knocking on my door. Not secretly praying that I'll hear my phone ring. That I will hear my email chime with the alert that a new message has arrived.
I still hope those things, y'know? Every time my phone rings, or I see an email pop up in my Yahoo account, there's an unsilenceable part of my mind that says, "Can it be?? IS IT SHE!?"
But, it never is.
And yet, it keeps happening. That little trigger keeps occurring. Every. Single. Time.
And I don't know what I'll do if it ever stops happening. Y'know? I don't want to lose that.
I don't.
And I've tried to preserve it.
Maybe kind of the same way high school athletes try and cherish their memories of being relevant, yeah? I remember we talked about this during a car ride, once. And maybe.... maybe you are my memory of glory? The one I always seek to recapture and relive. And continue to carry on cherishing.
Maybe I'll be stuck there, forever.
You really have ruined me for other women, y'know. I know that I probably shouldn't tell you that. I shouldn't equip you with the smug satisfaction of knowing that you actually ruined sex with any other woman for me. But it's... I don't know. It would be extorting and dishonest if I didn't tell you? But it's true. Nothing comes even close.
I-- obviously-- spent a LOT of time entwined with that thought. Of you as my sexual goddess. I haven't rescinded that ideal, just to make that clear. You're still the embodiment of sexual perfection, to me. And likely ever will be.
But... you know. Those things we experienced? The intensity and discovery and exhaustion and satisfaction and utter, blinding joy.... I always thought it was unique to us. Y'know? I always thought that maybe we just had two pieces of the same metaphorical locket; only when we were together and matching our pieces, were we able to unlock that.
Do you know what "fang-chung shu" is? That's what I imagined our lovemaking to be like. Transcendent and irreplaceable. Swept away into the arms of a deity, when we lay next to one another. On top of one another. Entwined and entangled.
Then, for a while, I thought that... maybe it was just you. Y'know? That I was kidding myself about what I contributed to it. That it was all you. Always you. And when you left me, you took it away, with you. It was yours to keep, and so, not mine, to have.
Now I've kind of come back around to my first theory, in a sense. I think it was Us, together, that forged that experience. But then, I also think that I simply valued the experience much, much higher than you. I cannot recreate it without you. But you never (or maybe, changed your mind?) held it in the same regard as I did. And I think Understand. For me, it was transporting, surreal, and world-bending. It literally changed me. Literally shaped part of me. For the rest of my life.
I think that maybe.... you were more resilient to the same effect? Maybe you felt it when we were together... and then you displaced it afterward. You gave it to someone else.
And I can respect that, as sad as it makes me.
I don't doubt that you have encounters that are roughly as enjoyable. Honestly, frankly, they might be MORE enjoyable-- you don't have to work nearly as hard, or as long, to produce your partners' satiety. And, also incredibly relevant, the emotional security of the relationship alone must make for deeper connections, greater vulnerability, and deeper depth of experience.
I get it, y'know?
In this way, I had.... have... failed.
So. That's about where I end up, when I think of that.
Today reminds me of the way I ... behaved a year ago. By blocking you from moving to the bay. And while I deeply regret the pain and loneliness and horrible shit that my actions put you through, I will admit, that ultimately, I don't regret the end-result of my decision. Still, even now. I admit and accept that I was wrong, and childish and controlling and... pretty much all of the unflattering words you can imagine, for me to implement that course of action in order to keep you from going through with your choice. But looking at the life you have now... I have no regrets.
Obviously, a great deal of this is choice justification bias; OF COURSE I see what you have now, and would find it superior to the choice, then. And of course I try and defend (badly) my actions by insisting that I still think it was better for you.
But it was still not my right to interfere in your life, at that point. So it was still an act of utter selfishness.
And basically, all I can do it hope that you will grant me a tiny bit of clemency if you feel that... maybe my actions were justified in the end, after all.
And if not.... that's alright, too.
There was more, though.
I wanted to apologize one last time, too. You know...
No. That's wrong.
Let me try that again.
I wanted to apologize again.
I can never apologize enough, nor stop feeling sorry, for the things I took for granted. Or presumed, in error or otherwise. I remember we were talking once, and you told me I didn't have to keep apologizing. And I said that... for me, I did. Because the point at which I stop feeling guilty for the transgressions I perpetuated against you, is the time when I begin falling back into the complacency of That Person.
So. Anyway.
I'm sorry. This time, for presuming that I could "fix" you. For thinking that I could somehow... I don't even know. "Cure" is the wrong word. But I guess "carry" the weight of your BPD, and depression, and anxiety. That if I just ... worked hard enough, and demonstrated to you that routine of working to ... get past something, I could help .... pull you out? Of the black morass that you sometimes found yourself steeped in.
It was utter, narcissistic, foolish hubris. And I'm sorry.
I thought I could "fix" you, with enough time and patience and tinkering. And that's a sad and maligned way to view a situation, much less a person whom I cared about so deeply.
But that was the trap, y'know? I cared enough to want to fix you. I wanted to be able to fight those things inside you. It's a normal reaction for a lot of guys; when there's a problem, we try and "fix" things.
But all I really ended up doing was making you have to wage an even more difficult battle, didn't I? By projecting my desire to see you "better", I only nudged you deeper into a place where you felt you had to "hide" what I perceived as a character flaw. "An idiosyncrasy".
How fucking stupid of me.
And all the while, if you ever succeeded in masking symptoms, and displayed (real or illusory) the mechanics of working toward what I thought was "the solution", I would take pleasure in knowing I was "helping" you.
Going back and reading that makes me feel disgusting.
And I'm so very sorry, Katie.
The number of quotation marks is a testament to my lack of understanding. Of you. And us. And many, many things.
I admit that I know very little.
And I'm sorry.
I don't know if you ever will forgive me. But I am. Really, powerfully, and deeply.
I suspect that you are healing-- scarring, as wounds do-- by rejecting those pieces of me that were buried deep within you. By isolating and destroying those little pieces of yourself that reflected me.
And I have no defense. I have nothing I can logically or emotionally say that would be worth saying. Anything I could say about that would only serve as an invalidation of those feelings and self-righting methods you're choosing to enact. And would really just be a projection of me trying to.... I don't know. Defend myself? Make it partially about me?
I'm sorry, Katie.
I've said this a handful of times, but I think it's worth repeating, now. Maybe one last time:
I never fully understood you. The difficulties and struggles of being you. And I'm sorry. For my unmindfulness, and presumption, and diminishment.
I never meant to hurt you. But I did, and grievously. And I am sorry.
If you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I stand ready to try and repair the breach.
I think that's all I have.
You don't need my sanctioning, but you go on ahead and villainize me as much as you need to to heal. Not even in a Splitting way. In a "I Hate The Things About The Way You Used To Be And The Way You Shaped Me Because Of It" kind of way.
I have no defense to offer.
I'm sorry.
I'm glad you relinquished the coal, y'know? I think we both know that it was keeping you from healing. Even though I had hoped that it would have also cauterized the wound.
But maybe that's the analogy.
Maybe the coal will cauterize mine, and maybe you just needed to let it go.
I'll always carry it, and you, around with me, you know. <3
Love you.
Miss you.
Please be well.
-c
10:40 p.m. - 2014-07-04
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea