I told you last night, "I think you're the only guy that I've ever loved and hated both equally and at the same time." And then it made me wonder if you were the only man that I ever loved at all.
Sometimes your heart can be overwrought so terribly that you wish that you never threw the penny in the wishing well to begin with, or built your life on a dream you once held your breath for. It took an overwhelming amount of time for me get over it completely, we're talking a few lists of new years resolutions that I put you on. Always somewhere on the list was:
forget him even if it was just a subconscious note to self.
When I was with you, it was like time stopped and I was always tempted to pinch myself or levitate off the ground because I knew I must have dreamt this whole thing up, could I really get things that I wanted so easily? (
I found out later in life... that yes, I could. But what you want is not always good for you. )I was vertiginous and elated; being around you made me feel like I was opening an anticipated gift that I'd been waiting for... for years, not knowing what was inside. I was always worried that I'd blink and you'd disappear. Which in hindsight, sounds foolish but how does one encounter their actual 'dream guy' and not think things among the same lines?
The surrealism started to to peel like paint off a huge canvas when I got a phone call a week or so after you'd arrived from the same girl I saw you with at the show, years before... she told me things and instead of flying, I was falling and waiting to hit the ground or be caught. It was something I could never just "let go". You were my first boyfriend ever and a part of me wanted really badly to believe that she was wrong/lying... but a part of me knew that it wasn't true.
I think that was it... before I could build my foundations of trusting you the glass had shattered as much as I tried to deny that the conversation ever took place.
Regardless, the times where I could push it away... the feelings would always return, that cloud swirling in my belly and I was uncomfortably happy, if that makes sense. It was almost as if I was too happy. I've learned later in life that things are never quite right when you're "too happy". I guess you said it best, "I always expect the worst so in the end if it's not so bad, I'm always pleasantly surprised." You were a cynic and in the back of my mind, I was too. Subconsciously I pushed you away because I reasoned that if the ruin was something that was inflicted on my part, it would make the fall less painful. I didn't know what was going on in my head at the time, I would look at you sleeping sometimes and I would hate you so much I'd bite my lip and my heart would suck into this guilty void... because I didn't hate you. I'd wrap my arms around you and fall asleep telling myself... 'it's nothing.' but in the morning... or some evenings the guilt would return and I'd lash out to distract myself from it and you were on the receiving end. I felt like I was being crushed by these invisible stones and every now and then I'd have to pop bloodlust and get them off of me. There were nights you were sleeping and I felt alone, I could hear you breathing but the tears would well up just the same.
I'd cry, I made you cry, which felt even worse because this dream sequence was starting to turn into a nightmare. (I never foresaw this when I was just admiring you from afar.) How could you still make me laugh though? We did things together, we did everything together. (Maybe that was part of the problem too.) But we enjoyed each other's company. In my paintings, I tried to convey the turmoil and angst I had living inside of me... but it never really came out the right way. The window even, was much more than just a window I had painted. I felt like I was staring at my life through a window... and on the other side was everything I dreamed about but I was stuck behind this glass. Trust shouldn't be like that though, there should be no barrier... it has to be open. To this day even, I've never fully opened it and it has kind of ruined everything. I remember even, when Ruedi and I broke up the final time he said, "I'm not David! I would never hurt you! Not all men are David but you don't even give them the chance to prove they aren't! You never gave me that chance." I suppose he was right, and he wasn't the first guy that has ever said this to me.
You know the rest, how it all went down. I broke. I was 20 years old and I felt broken... I suggested that you leave, stay with your mom for a bit because we both were suffering from really bad depression. You were losing your mind and hurting yourself and I could no longer think or act rationally. I told you to go live with your mom and to take Grendel with you (our cat) and then when I had everything in order, I'd come down and we'd try again. We were doomed after that, I never made it to you.
The last time I saw you, I was at my best friend Jessie's house. We were both crying and you cupped my face in your hands and you promised me, "I love you. One day we'll be married and we'll have the most beautiful babies." Jessie had to pull me inside and I spent the rest of the night crying. I cried for days, weeks... and on some bad months. Was it a couple weeks later? You called me up and broke up with me over the phone and went back to her. I'd been staying at my parent's house because walking into our apartment was like walking into a tomb. It smelled like you and it'd knock the wind right out of me. The apartment was filled with invisible dementors! I couldn't move when I was in there, I couldn't breathe and I'd start to collapse. I never slept there ever again after you left. I didn't even drive on that side of town for half a year. I stopped eating for a while, I don't even want to talk about the other physically distressing things I went through but I turned my sadness and disappointment into hate on the outside because I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing that I was shattered, disappointed and felt like the biggest idiot in the entire world. My dream guy in the end... was just a silly dream I had.
***
I tried to make you small and bury you by foolish distractions and did things that I'd never in my life imagine doing, I experimented with drugs, I drank A LOT, and I used men solely for validation... which is weird to me because you and I lived with each other for weeks before we actually slept together. I wasn't myself, I didn't know who this new person was... but she was totally destructive and I nearly got myself killed... really. I have the hospital bill for it and everything. I eventually started to clean my act up when I was 23 but I'd fall back into the same patterns. I think you got married to her when I was 23... and it was the first time I had cried about you in years. (Well, two at least.)
I don't think we talked and started to rebuild an amicable relationship with each other until... I was 26 and I rarely thought about you. Of course, every now and then you'd come up, fond memories would resurface and then I'd be distracted with whatever was going on in my life at that moment and forget about it. So here it is, we've actually been friendly with each other for 3 years now and have become, actually, quite good friends and confidants from afar, which is both baffling and fascinating all at once.
I realized though, that somewhere... I still get a little rush when I tell the story about how we met and to this day, feel that sinking and crushing feeling when I think of the fallout that took place for years afterward.
On one end it's like waking up from a dream that you wish you could jump in and spend out your days living in and the other end is like waking up in a cold sweat after a night of tossing and turning and although unsettled you're relieved to be back in your own bed knowing that you survived but it takes a while for your heart to get back in rhythm.
Ohhhh, YOU!
Die Zeit mit dir war schön, doch uns bleibt nur die Erinnerung daran.
Und manchmal wünsch ich mir, wir Zwei hätten uns später erst gesehen.
