I was over him until he literally walked back into my life.

ever fallen in love with someoen you shouldn't have

It’s been just over two years since I last saw him in person.

It’s been almost a year since we spoke the last time via text.

It’s been three and a half months since I felt strongly enough about him to put forth the effort in writing on my blog about it.

Essentially, it took me two years to get over him.

Our last conversation – 07/02/2012
Me: Do you still think of me? 12:12 AM
Him: No. 12:13 AM
Me: Fair enough. Safe travels. 12:14 AM (He was planning a trip to Europe when we spoke a few months earlier.)
Me: I hope our paths cross again once you’ve matured a bit in some aspects. 12:20 AM
Him: I do 12:22 AM  (I assume he meant “I don’t.”)
Me: You do what? 12:22 AM
Him: I’m seeing someone. Someone I enjoy completely. 12:27 AM
Him: I love her, really. 12:28 AM
Him: I don’t want you in my life at all. In any capacity. Ever. 12:29 AM
Me: I’m happy for you. 12:29 AM
Him: Good. Stop contacting me. 12:30 AM
Me: Why is that? 12:30 AM
Me: I mean I don’t intend to continue. I’m just curious. 12:31 AM
Him: Because I tell her everything, and she doesn’t really enjoy me receiving texts from random women, especially when we’re lying together. 12:34 AM
Him: As a courtesy to us, just stop. 12:34 AM
Him: Bye (name). 12:35 AM
Me: Haha. 12:35 AM  (I laughed because he doesn’t tell anyone everything.)
Me: Bye (name). 12:36 AM

All of that changed on Thursday, May 23, 2013 at around 12:15pm CST.  He showed up at my place of employment.  (I’m sure he didn’t tell his girlfriend about that.)

I’ll spare you the details, but when I saw him, I was certainly not elated like I had always pictured I would be.  I was confused and I was frustrated.  He only had about an hour to spend with me, so after I decided to stop being a bitch (“Be cordial”, he said.  Seriously!?), we went out for lunch.

I thought to myself, “Okay, you can either have a shitty last time together or you can make the best of it.”  I decided to make the best of it… to get the closure I needed.  We had a couple of laughs… and I asked him for a hug at the end of the visit.  We held on for a minimum of 60 seconds; during this time he kissed my head a few times just like before.  He said he was thinking about the first day we spent together and how it was a bit awkward until we shared a fairly lengthy hug.  We parted, with him telling me to “have a nice life.”

I sent him a txt right after he left letting him know it was nice seeing him again and to have fun with his pain in the ass girlfriend (light-heartedly;  he had told me how much of a PITA she was during our drive back to my employer.)  He responded a few hours later with “:3″ and that was it.

I’ve stopped myself multiple times from sending another txt.  That’s mainly why I’m writing this post; it’s a way to (sort of) distract myself from speaking directly to him.   He would enjoy that way too much (he’s a sociopath – he’d get enjoyment out of knowing he still has a hold on me after all this time).

I still don’t believe he went 45 minutes out of his way (he flies all over the country for work) to “just to see how I was doing.” I firmly believe he did it to torture the fuck out of me.  I was fine for a few hours after he left.  Then guess what?  Mission accomplished.  I am so fucking broken down it’s ridiculous.

It took just over two years since I got over him the first time; I don’t even want to imagine how long it’s going to take me to get over this.

one person you'll never get over

Advertisements

My Most Surreal Experience: The Man Who Didn’t Exist | The Daily Prompt

Image

(Photo Source)

Written for the Daily Prompt: What’s the most surreal experience you’ve ever had?

sur·re·al
adjective
1.
of, pertaining to, or characteristic of surrealism, an artistic and literary style; surrealistic.
2.
having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream; unreal; fantastic

I never knew what unadulterated passion was before I met him; I never knew someone could affect me in such a profound way.  I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating:  he challenged me and made me work towards my dreams for myself.  It wasn’t because he wanted me to improve for him; it was always because he wanted me to improve for myself – to achieve what I wanted.

I chose the picture to represent what our love meant to me.  It not only challenged me, but the love we shared helped me grow in multiple ways. I’m a better person because of that relationship.  I do my best to experience new things, to not give into excuses… to continue to grow.  I have a lot of work to do yet, but I’m getting there.

May 13, 2011 – we were chatting about me not seeing results in regards to fitness:

 HIM:
In a world that will eat your emotions raw, there is no room for excuses, especially when you’re so critical of yourself.
I wish I could show you; I wish you could feed off my energy and willpower, but we aren’t together.
So when you feel like just “giving up,” either commit yourself to the cause  or just give up.
You asked me to write you an email describing different aspects of myself.
The thing that annoys me the most on anyone, especially you, is entertainment of any excuses. Ever.
 
ME:
Why especially me?
 
HIM:
Because I love you, and I know you are better than that…
Even if you don’t.
So I will fucking yell at you every time you project even the slightest excuse in any direction.
I am so motivated because I take accountability for everything in my life. If something isn’t the way I want it, it’s simply because I’m not trying hard enough.
This applies to me as a person and the world as it could be.

How could I not love his passion for helping me? For life?  How could my heart not flutter when he said that I’m better than any excuse?  How could I have been so foolish?

I don’t think I will ever meet someone else that passionate about life.  I don’t want to; I’ll just fall in love with them, and I can’t do that.

I don’t regret knowing him… or what I thought to be him.  I continue to work towards my fitness goals and when I need some motivation, that is one of the conversations I go back and read.  One day… I’ll be able to push myself and not need external motivation.  Until then, I’ll continue revisiting the fantasy as much as it hurts me to do so. In the end, I will benefit from it over and over again. Whatever it takes, right?

Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need
Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don’t know why
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?

January 27, 2010 is when I first touched the man who didn’t exist.

I saw, heard, touched and smelled him under on the bench in front of those windows.  Did I tell you he never existed?

I saw, heard, touched and smelled him in this airport lobby.  Did I tell you he never existed?

Had I not dreamt about him two nights ago, this post wouldn’t exist.  Ha… what a coincidence.  It wouldn’t exist… just like he never did.

It’s been at least a year since I’ve felt so anxious, so… confused.

Our relationship began six weeks prior to meeting each other in person.  I couldn’t fall asleep, so I went online to find a stranger who was interested in speaking over Skype until I fell into my slumber.  It took awhile to pull his contact information out of him; I enjoyed the challenge so much I didn’t want to give up on it. I was pretty sure I knew just how to “break” him, though.  I sang for him.  It was my last-ditch effort.  He said he was going out, so I posted a recording of me singing “Goodnight, Sweetheart” from the movie Three Men and a Baby. His next message is what changed the course of… well… the rest of my life, really.

I’ll spare you the details, but two weeks after we started talking on a daily basis – hours and hours each day – we decided to meet in Las Vegas in April during a business trip of mine.  I chose to go out two days earlier than needed so I could spend extra time with him.  Except, about three weeks after that decision was made, he boarded a plane and flew halfway across the country with about $20 left in his wallet… and to his name.

Following my instructions, he walked a straight line to the big TV screen and took a right.  You can see some large windows in the distance; I touched him for the very first time in front of those windows.  In fact, if memory serves me correctly, I may have timed this posting right down to the minute.

Who am I trying to fool?  He didn’t actually walk on that floor; I never touched him two years ago.  He didn’t exist.  So why is it then that two years ago this evening was the beginning of the most tumultuous year of my life?