Now I know through this social media platform called Facebook that he’s openly in a relationship with a girl I used to be friends with. I’d requested her to be my friend on Facebook and she never accepted me. I just went to her profile and noticed her relationship status. My heart jumped. Yes, it’s him. It’s him. Betrayal, frustration, and depression flew through me in a matter of a second after realizing I was being ridiculous for being upset. It’s ridiculous, but I still feel it. Nostalgia is a big character defect. That’s why I’m here. I need to talk. I feel so sad and small.
It’s been three years that he’s come in and out of my head. Nostalgia invades me once in awhile. It’s pathetic.
I tell myself he was ‘the first’. He was my first lover in sobriety, in my new life. The relationship’s intensity was disproportionate. I thought I’d never loved or been loved before him. He was the one, and I told him I loved him. He said he was scared of not being able to love me. He was scared I would ask too much, now that I loved him. He backed off, and eventually, he ended things. The end of that relationship felt like the end of love.
When he left me, I started to dig a hole in the ground around me with my fingernails, asking what it was all about and when I would ever find a man like him again. I blamed him, I blamed myself, and I fucked men with a desperate, sad hope that I would be with him again some day. In my grief, I gathered that by the time we found each other again, I’d be damaged goods. Slowly, I forgot about him. Others came and went.
Now, I can say that there has been love like his before… and better. But there will never be pain like his again. It feels so fresh, all the time, that it bleeds immediately, profusely, and forever.
Oh wow, I hate Facebook and I’m tired.
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