THE TRUTH IS MESSIE…

My e-journal, all the nitty-gritty, overly-emotional, sappy stuff…

How Is This Still A Conversation. May 21, 2015

So I got just a tad bit annoyed with the Bestie earlier. We were chatting on Facebook while I was making the drive back to New York and when she found out about my last-minute travel plans, she sent me a message saying she was going to the first Saranac Thursday show of the season tonight and suggested that I meet up with her there if I got in early enough. As in Saranac Thursday…a summertime concert series held in the courtyard of the brewery where Mr. Wonderful (sarcasm) works. Yeahhhhh. I don’t know if she was kidding and thought she was being funny or what…but I didn’t think it was cute. And maybe I’m being just a bit too over-analytical about it…but if I am, it’s because I’ve just about run out of patience for that kind of thing these days–those smart-@$$ little quips about HIM and that ENTIRE situation. It’s gotten old. Like really, really old.

 

As for the Bestie, she knows better. Or she should know by now, rather. It’s not funny. Not to me. Which is the point I hopefully made perfectly clear in my replied text to her afterwards. I wasn’t mean. I simply told her how I felt. Which was that it would be in a cold day in HELL before I ever stepped foot in that courtyard for one of those events–or anywhere in the vicinity on one of those nights–ever again. It really is that simple. I have zero interest in being anywhere that place or seeing any of those people–especially HIM. And chances are, with it being the first event of the season, he most likely will be in attendance. That considered, I don’t want to see him. I just don’t. And not because I’m still naive and ridiculously hung up on the guy. Believe me, I am soooo not. At all. I got over him a long time ago. Years ago, in fact.

 

Still, that doesn’t mean I want to see or run into him. Just because I’ve moved on doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all that happened or the hell he put me through. I haven’t forgotten any of it. And maybe it shouldn’t, but it still hurts a little, even now. And for that, I’m still angry. I still hate him. I haven’t forgiven him. And I might sound like a bitch for it–but I don’t want to forgive him. I don’t. That’d be too easy…and he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness…not when I know damn well he doesn’t feel the least bit sorry for any of the things he did and what he put me through.

 

It really bothers me that people think it’s okay to bring him up in conversation…for the Bestie to even think it’s okay to joke about something like that and actually suggest I go somewhere where there’s even the slightest chance he might be. I don’t care that it’s been well over 5 years now. And I can’t stand how people assume I’m just supposed to smile and go where he might be and not feel physically sickened at the possibility of catching even a glimpse of him.

 

I love the Bestie to death, but it’s something like this that is exactly one of the reasons why I stopped talking to her for that year. Her complete disregard for the fact that I want nothing to do with him. That I don’t want to hear his name or talk about him in any way, shape, or form. I didn’t then. And I don’t now. I feel bad for saying it, but it’s almost like she doesn’t understand or know who I am anymore.  If she did, she’d understand just how messed up it is for her to even suggest such a thing, whether it being in jest or not. Nothing about what happened between him and I is funny. Nothing. That period of my life was–hands-down–one of the worst of my life. I was a broken, ridiculous mess. And I nearly let it all destroy my life.

 

But I didn’t. I didn’t let that happen. I held it together. I picked up the pieces of my heart and my life and glued them back as well as I could. And it was hard. It was hell. It took everything I had to turn my life around, but I did it. Metaphorically speaking, my moving to Nashville was in a sense, the final act. The final step. I picked up my life and moved it 900 miles away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known. In part–yes–because of that whole situation. The way I see it, moving to Tennessee was my way of closing the book–one and for all–on that horrible chapter in my life. Those events, that place, those people, HIM–I put it all behind me the moment I pulled out of the driveway that day back in January. And not once did I look back. And I’m certainly not going to do it now. I’m not going to open that can of worms. People don’t get it, but even something as simple as going to one of those events would be a huge step backwards. And I’m done going backwards. These days, I’m moving forward. Just forward. And I’m making no exceptions.

 

But it’s not just him. It’s that whole scene. The drinking–all of that–it’s just not me anymore. I have no interest in any of that behavior I used to engage in. After all, where did it ever get me? Nowhere but in trouble and heartbreak, that’s where. I’ve moved on. Physically, emotionally…in every way. As far as I’m concerned, he no longer exists. He disappeared, probably to the same place as the girl I used to be disappeared to. And I have no desire to go searching for either of them. I don’t particularly like talking up Nashville to the Bestie or bragging about how well things are going in my life down there, but it’s the truth. I’m happy there. Content. I went looking for a clean slate and I found it. And I’ll be damned if I’ll give it up for a mere couple of hours of wasted socializing.

 

Above all that though, I’m only going to be here for a couple of weeks. I came here for some down-time and to spend time with my family and friends because only god knows when I’ll get the chance to visit again after this. I want to enjoy this time. Not spend it miserable because I had the misfortune to run into the last people I want to see at this point and time in my life. It’s just not worth it. They’re not worth it. They never were.

 

If the Bestie wants to hang out in a different setting, one that doesn’t involve alcohol and individuals I despise with every fiber of my being, then I have no problem with it. If not…well, then that’s her choice. Like it or not, I’ve changed. And though it saddens me to admit it, so has our friendship. Honestly, it was inevitable. A fact of life. We grew up. We’re not teenagers anymore. We’re adults with completely separate lives. That’s just the reality of it all. And while it’s bittersweet, part of me thinks it’s kind of a good thing. By that, I don’t mean that I don’t want us to stop being friends–I want nothing of the sort. All I’m saying is that my decision to move to Nashville was a good thing in that it forced me to grow up…to stop leaning on others for support. Moving 900 miles away was pure insanity and outrageous. And there was a point in time when I never would have been able to do it…when I was too scared to be without my family. To scared to not have the Bestie joined at the hip like we’d been for years. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if she’d followed my suggestion and moved down to Nashville with me on one of the numerous times that I suggested to her that she should–and I think that while it would have been nice to be able to share these experiences and this incredible success I’ve found there with her–I also think that doing it on my own made me stronger, more confident, more assured. I did something I never thought I’d have the nerve to do. I left. And all this happiness and success–I worked hard for it. Just me. I earned it. No one gave it to me or did it for me. I did it all. And I’m pretty impressed and proud of myself, I have to admit.

 

Everyone always says that the best revenge is letting those people in your past that hurt you see you happy. If that’s so, well, here I am. He can look all he wants. I’m happy, in spite of all he did and all that happened. I did this. I figured out how to be happy. And the great part about it is it that it had absolutely nothing to do with him. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I’m happy because I want to be. And because I know that even with all the mistakes I may have made, I’ve earned the right to be. Most importantly, I deserve it.

 

And knowing that he can’t touch it, ruin it, or take it [my happiness] away this time…well, I’ve got to honestly…it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world. Truly. The. Best. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

xoMESSIE

Advertisements
 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s