2006-04-10

Sorting it Out

Why do people talk to their ex-lovers?

Sometimes, it's nice to hear from someone with whom you have slept that you are not a total waste of organic matter.

She understood you and years later, when her predictions were coming true, you just wanted to show her that you understand things better now.

It doesn’t have to be that you want to go back to your ex, it doesn’t mean that you are hung-up, and it doesn’t mean that you have anything to prove to him. It just means that you want to hear his voice because believe me on this one: People are gone in an instant and you NEVER get to tell them that you are sorry.

You can believe all that shit about the afterlife and peace in death that you want to believe but take it from someone who knows…. It’s a hell of a lot easier to sort shit out with someone who is alive than with someone who is dead. And sorting shit out doesn’t mean falling in love again or getting back together, or even hooking up for a wild and raunchy night of familiarly dirty sex.

Lucky people are able to point to crucial relationships and understand that to belittle those relationships is to belittle themselves. Self-loathing can take so many forms, one of them being the denial of how you felt about someone during a specific time or place. I write here in a way that's funny, not in a way that's meant to hurt the feelings of the people involved. There's only one thing that I regretted writing because it was pretty mean and in no way could it be taken lightly. I apologized to that person and he wasn't having it.

Fair enough.

So. You think I am thick-legged and uni-browed? You think those are my greatest insecurities? Give a little credit. My insecurites are much more serious now than to fret over things like body hair and chubby legs.

Too bad that hiding behind my guestbook is the best way for you to try to take a swing at me. If you called me to address your issues, you might be able to get a handle on what my real issues are and really hurt my feelings, thus getting your point across. Since that's the only way you seem to know how to make a point with me.

But be careful with your righteousness - people who have been called dumb by me are smart enough to know that growing up is good, even though it hurts a lot. You should have learned from me while I was fucking up in your space - how many times was I wrong? I tried to tell you that but you don't want to hear it. You only want to lash out at me from wherever it is you thing that I can't reach you to hit back. I'm not going to hit back.

People do change.

If someone is really living, then she or she is going to change a little over time. For some of us it's a mellowing out and for others, it is growing a sense of urgency. Most of the time, we change in that we can look back and laugh at how dumb we were, but do it in a way that honors our idiocy rather than degrades it.

For you, there's no change. Maybe you think that's good. I’m not going to comment except to say that after the last time that this happened, there was NO doubt in my mind that doing things your way is not for me anymore.

There was one time a few years ago when I acted out with a friend, instead of calling an ex and telling that person how hurt and betrayed I was feeling, My friend and I did some slight vandalization that I thought was funny. When we got in the car to leave the scene of the non-punishable crime, my friend and I were really quiet. He wanted hilarity to ensue but I couldn’t shake the heavy purple feeling of embarrassment. My cheeks were on fire and there was that feeling of something gushing from my ribcage and freezing my stomach.
It was so bad.
My friend wanted to go play pool but all I wanted to do was go throw up so that maybe the nausea of humiliation would go away. I had to decide if I was going to be the kind of person, like you, who smears ugly words from a little hidey-hole or if I was going to be like Cyndi Lauper and be the one who walks in the sun and tells her ex that all that toilet paper in the front yard is my fault.

You wanna talk shit about me, no sweat.
You wanna talk shit about me from anonymity’s safety, then that’s not really a problem for me either. But you should know that you’re a coward and vicariously from the anonymity, you become the liar. That makes you a fool since you are the thing that you accused me of being.

I like being an adult; forgiving and being forgiven; and most of all, I like laughing at the things that would never have had so much perspective had I not gone running from the likes of you.

arizonasarah at 2:35 p.m.

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