An Open Letter

I should’ve had a better day today. I went to the Apple Park gym, and I worked out on a business trip, which I usually never do. I texted friends, Did work, ate good food etc. But I still find myself hurting. And it’s strange because I don’t even see E In my mind, it’s More just a memory of hurting, like that is something I’m supposed to do like that is my obligation. It’s like I have this compulsion to feel pain. I think about how I see a Mazda and I don’t even think about her anymore. That used to be our big inside joke. I think about how she has a boyfriend again. I think about somehow running into her at the airport or seeing her in traffic in her car, even though I know those two things are virtually impossible. And I don’t miss her, and I fully understand that this was a part of my life that is passed. I don’t want it impact either, and I find myself in the shower, almost rehashing old arguments. I think about how for Christmas I got her the childhood stuffed animal that she couldn’t find anymore, and how that was something she used against me when we broke up the first time. She got mad at me for spending too much money on her and giving more thoughtful presence than she did, and I know it came from a place of guilt and hurt, and that wasn’t really the problem, but I also think about how behind my back she told our mutual friend about how it felt like I was trying to replace parts of her, or how everything was white because I was washing the color out of her life. And then I think about how she recorded me when she entered my house with three other people to take stuff back and really hit me at my lowest and make it as cruel as possible. I think about when I said at work and I listen to the recording taking notes because I tried to figure out what I did wrong to justify her still blaming me. I went through everything and I kept crying and I kept hurting, and I had to fight to argue about how it was not OK to even just record me let alone the rest of it, and how at the end of the day it circled back and she said she didn’t regret it and she was happy that she recorded me even though it hurt me so badly. And I just remember my hope breaking and all of the potential and the potential future that I had seen just wash away in that parking lot as I had that call. I think about how hollow I felt walking back to my car. It felt like it hadn’t set in yet like I was in shock. How is this the same person that helped me move into my new house. How is this the person that wanted to marry me, and the person that brought me to their Thanksgiving with their family, where they threw me a surprise birthday party. How is this the person that gave me back a bag depressants that I had given her, with the exception of the few ones she decided to keep. And it’s one of those things where I have given myself the closure I have learned is necessary. I don’t sit here, hoping that she feels remorse or that anything has changed or anything at all from her anymore. And I’m grateful for the experience, but it’s still fucking hurts. And I wish it was a little bit more gentle, but maybe that’s what I needed and I told myself, and I still do that. It was necessary for things to go so nuclear and for things to hurt me so incredibly badly because even after they went nuclear and she did all those things I tried to apologize and get her back. And I needed to learn that lesson sooner than later and so I’m incredibly grateful for this pain. But fuck.

I remember when I was first dealing with a breakup I was watching a lot of different videos about it and someone described grief like glitter exploding. You can clean a lot of it up, but no matter what you will always find little pieces of glitter tucked away. And I wonder how much more glitter is left for me to find. I think about how she gave me a list of food places to visit in San Jose, and that pops up in my head whenever I try to decide where to go for a nice meal. I think about the insecurity that I had because of the level of luxury that she came from. And I know that she did not really do anything bad with that, but I was always just preemptively afraid of judgment or shame for not going to really fancy places or understanding what to do in those situations. Hell, I played golf for the first time at a country club with their family. And I know that it’s not a thing about wealth because I know that I am incredibly wealthy compared to my peers due to the privilege that I have, and additionally the amount of wealth that I come from because of my dad‘s hard work and success. And I know that comparatively she did not have those things when she was not with her parents. But at the same time, I still feel a sting whenever I go to these nice places and I see people bringing their girlfriends. And I feel like it’s a competition of something I am not really willing to do. I don’t go to these food place with myself and I was not raised. To spend money like that, it always felt like a waste of money. But I would worry about how I am supposed to pay for things like this when I already feel like cringing at the thought of spending that much money. And I think it’s such a weird thing about how I got in trouble for spending too much money on her, but at the same time that being my fear in a different lens.

I think it’s just really hurts to have all of this hope and potential in this person in a relationship that I had put so much into, and then have it backstab me. And additionally, I have blame to give myself, because there were a lot of signs that I should have noticed and a lot of unhealthy patterns like the codependency and lack of sticking to my boundaries with things. And I think this is a lesson that I needed to learn, and I think about that line about how sometimes you need to go through it to give advice. And I think I needed to give myself this advice and truly learn from it in a way that words were not able to teach me ahead of time.

I just wonder how long this glitter will haunt me for.