Ok. So....anyone that's read my first entry knows about my "crazy ex". Er...sort of. I don't know how much detail I've gone into because honestly, I cringe when I go back and read my older entries. *sigh* I have always had a flair for the dramatic. Haha.
What is important to know is that she and I met when we were chittlins(14) and dated on and off until we were graduating. She was my first love. She was a rock in the storm that was my life - and I didn't even realize how truly hurricanic it was. Still, she was there. Always. I honestly thought I would marry her someday(well spend our lives together since same-sex marriage was illegal back then). I applied to a Christian college to be near her. (As an eclectic Pagan with Northern Heathen leanings....it was a huge commitment, ok?) But, at times, it was toxic and destructive. And still......up until recently I still considered her one of my best friends. Even though we occasionally didn't agree and she pissed me off....like all the time. She had been my everything through everything.
So, now that you have all that general knowledge: In 2017 my mother passed from cancer. Right before she passed, I had started coming to terms with and admitting that my mother was emotionally and psychologically abusive, and she allowed my sister and I to be sexually abused by her brother as well. All of this was being remembered(sort of. I have limited memory, my sister remembers it all. Why? I wish I fucking knew, maybe I wouldn't feel like a fake when I tell other survivors that I was a victim once too.) and it was hard to navigate the labyrinth this created. My mother had just died, I was crushed. This was a woman that I loved, who had given me life. And now I was without her. But at the same time, I had to admit that she had done some really horrible shit to me throughout my life, the worst of which was completely tearing apart my life and family. As time wore on, my sadness and missing my mother shifted and became something darker and more vindictive.
The ex happened to call on a pretty rough night. Hubby and I still couldn't live together yet, my middle son was continually being sent home for behavior issues, and I had to quit my job because I couldn't keep my kid in school. The night she called was a terrible night. I was pissed. Pissed that once again I was having to do ALL the work by myself. Pissed that I couldn't even get and hold a job because it was literally just me vs them six kids. Pissed because I just wanted to get back to my normal life, you know? Like, I've been through some real shit over my life ok. I mean, yeah, a majority of us have, right? But, y'all, I am not playing when I tell you my story has made people cry after they've learned it. Bawl. Me? I laugh. Cause....if I ever allow myself to crack, I'll never fix myself. When she called, I was in the middle of crying and cursing my mother(this is something I do at least twice a year to make sure that spiteful bitch will never find peaceful rest. She can wander eternity in the shadows for all I care. Not sorry a bit. Not even sorry I'm saying it.) and she got mad. "Don't speak ill of the dead." She told me. Bro, I lost it. Like....what in the actual....like, excuse me? "Well, my dad used to beat me but now that he's dead I would never speak ill of him." Well congratulations, good for you. If you don't want me to speak ill of your father, no problem. I can keep my opinions to myself. So....I lost my temper a bit, I'll admit. And I told her she could fuck off and if she didn't want to say the truth about my mother that was fine, but it was my mother, and if I wanted to curse her to wander the earth forever as a terrified and lonely specter...BRO! She's my fucking creator ok, not yours.
This inevitably changed the dynamics as I wasn't about to apologize for saying what I said, and she was truly convinced that I was a terrible person because I told her to fuck off over it. We never really talked that much anyway, but now it's even less. She called me once after that, while she's on the phone with some kid I don't even know, and then starts talking about how my vagina must be gross because I've had six kids. I haven't heard any complaints so....which apparently was also me being mean. And part of me gets it, ok. I literally have like no sense of humor what-so-ever. Step Brothers? Dumbest shit ever created. Ted? Who the fuck even thinks about some teddy bear wanking off other than immature men that have nothing better to do with their life than sit around laughing about dick jokes? I mean, no offense to a majority of men out there, seriously. But no woman came up with the idea for Ted. It's stupid. So, clearly, I have NO sense of HUMOR. I'm sorry. But she is one of those people that "jokingly" makes fun of everyone, all the time, about anything. I don't handle it well, and after more than fifteen years of friendship.....bitch should know, dude. Either she's seriously dumb.....which she's not, or she just does it to get a rise.
Well, fast forward to like last month or the month before. I reach out to make sure she's ok cause you know, Covid and I haven't heard from her in like a quarter of a year. We're chatting and stuff and she happens to mention how she's thinking of moving in with Bekah and trying again with Bekah. (*Bekah is for her, what she was for me.) I think Bekah uses her, so I don't think it's a great idea. She knows I won't think it's a great idea. But instead of telling her, she's being dumb, I told her how happy I was for her. And if they can make it work, then awesome, I'm happy. She deserves to be happy. So, I tell her that's awesome and I'm so happy and how beautiful it is. She's like "are you being sarcastic" and I'm like no? I'm being sincere. She's like, "all you ever do is be mean to me and cut me down, I can't believe you're being so nice about this." And....despite everything over these past few years. I realized how much those words really hurt me.
I had molded myself into what she claimed she wanted me to be, all the while it was never good enough. Even when she told me I had to move on because she did and then as soon as I find someone that makes me happy, she decides to tell me she's still in love with me, but now she'd never want me. I mean....I can't claim a bunch of innocence here either, ok. Abby and I were.....it was complicated. We were young. I was suffering from a bunch of shit I didn't know how to deal with - until I found out it all tied into the childhood sexual abuse. So, I wasn't very nice to her at certain times in our history either, I have blame. But....did she even ever know me? Or more importantly, did I ever really know her? Does she honestly believe that I don't care and I keep answering her calls because I enjoy the torture? Don't get me wrong. My life is finally back on track, things are looking up, I love my children and my husband more than life itself and I would never leave him for someone else unless shit was fucked up with him and I. But....I thought she knew me better. I thought she had listened. I poured my heart out to her so many times over the years. Even after I had gotten pregnant and then married. As I said, she was my rock in the storm, the only safety I could find in all the chaos that was my life. And she really thinks that I wouldn't be happy for her if she were happy? Y'all....it just kills me. I love her. I will always love her(for whatever stupid fucking reason). I was past her breaking my heart anymore I thought. And yet.....here I am. And yeah, I realize it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't make any bit of difference what she thinks, I know how genuine I am. And yet.....it does matter.
And I don't know how to make it stop mattering anymore.....I wish I could forget, or sometimes I do. I don't know, I'm so torn. And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about it cause most of my family doesn't like her anyway.
Idk. Thanks. Idk who reads this, but thank you anyway.
Have a good day. Stay warm and be safe.
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