I Don't Really Care.

...I don't think anyway. I'm not actually sure anymore.

I'm playing a very dangerous game for a woman (or so I would be told by all the female figures in my life who have gone through breakups and divorces and whatnots). I'm still allowing myself to live in this environment with this person who is supposed to be my ex that ripped out my heart and darkened my soul. It's not completely by choice in some ways, I have a lot of factors going on in my life right now and this living place is well, in the middle of where all my life has been- downtown Minneapolis, film, jobs, networking, etc.

Sure, now that the film festival is over, I don't technically have a job here anymore. And I don't technically have a living space if I wasn't allowed to crash in this apartment. But there are my people here. And if I pack all this shit up and move back home to booniesville, Wisconsin, I fear I'll lose whatever drive I had here and maybe not get it back this time. This isn't the first time I've had to do this. We remember that year, the year I had to recover from the broken leg. LOTS of entries on that. None very happy.

Granted, entries from this past year haven't been particularly happy either. You know, happiness is too dangerous. I never really liked it, it's not consistent enough and it does go away. You can't always stay happy no matter what. It's not physically or literally or mentally possible. Even the healthiest people aren't always happy. It doesn't work that way. I feel pretty bad now after rereading these entries just how horrible things got here. No one in any relationship should have to go through that. I didn't realize how severe it was at the time, but in a clearer headspace, it's horrible! I wouldn't wish that on anyone and I'm so sad it got to that point and that I was helpless to do anything about it. And I can understand the perspective of the ex, how he was seeing it and feeling the heaviness in the apartment. Me too. Unfortunately, not one thing started it, just a combination of both of our point of views being WRONG and darkening this place. And neither of us effectively did anything about it. He emotionally couldn't, and I was too terrified to say anything and unsure since having never been in a relationship, I wasn't sure what we talk about and what we take care of on our own.

It turns out if you're in a serious relationship with another human being, your well being is always something that should be talked about. Theirs too. I know now for the future that anything, even something super tiny, that triggers me in any way, I will share. It is only fair and yea there's this terror involved of being rejected or being mocked or disregarded, but I'll have known I got it out of me before it destroyed me, and I guess if I get that negative response, then this person is not meant for me.

Although I'll tell you right now, I have many doubts that there even is a person that is "meant for" me. There seems to be far too many variables when you throw in another human life, mentality, psyche, whatever, that I'm just not sold that it works this way. Especially for me. I had been convinced for my entire life that I was meant to be alone, that it was literally God's will and I was certainly not gonna mess with that, and then ex boy came along and changed all that. But now I'm back to the beginning wondering what the point was to begin with. Especially when you are actually in love with someone but they couldn't even care as deeply as you for you. Seems to be a stupid game. I don't like the odds, and I don't feel like taking anymore risks. I look at marriages and relationships of people I know and I can't even fathom what that is really like, how they got to those places of unconditional anything for each other. Maybe I had a dud. Or maybe this will be the best I will ever have in my lifetime. I don't think anything is on my side as far as relationships to come, and I guess that's fine now. I don't think I care anymore.

For the record, I know why he came into my life. I was trying to kill myself. I mean, literally. By the time we crashed into each other in person, I was on a one way trip to hell and I wasn't going to stop until I was six feet under. Between the cutting, starving, drinking, pill popping, I was trying to escape the living. And then he came and distracted me from it. And he made me feel good. He pursued me and made me feel things I didn't know I could and turned me around. I still had rough patches and mental bad times, but it wasn't like what had been going on. I was always so grateful and always tried to tell him. I even wrote him a lovely note about how much I appreciated him coming into my life for our only Valentines that was ever celebrated. I meant it. I've always meant everything I've said. I can't not. And maybe that's why this was so hard for me.

Sidenote: May have just gotten distracted by rereading really old entries of this relationship. And then started crying and apologizing profusely to my past self. I see now what I couldn't see then and I am so sorry I was put through this. Honestly though? Looking at these, having this chronicled, makes it easier for me to get over him, or to at least manage in this environment when I have to share the living space with him. I don't pine over him or gaze longingly at him because I know better and knew what became of that when I did in the past. I certainly don't want to keep this up for too long, feels like I'll wear out my welcome and we'll just get annoyed with each other again or something, and I really want all my stuff out of here just so he can see how barren and empty and alone this place will be without me and what I added, but at least I know I can take this in small doses.

To be honest, I've never been more secure around him than I am right now. That seems counterproductive or backwards, but it's true. I've also never felt more confident around him. We've taken up what appears to be fuck buddies and I love every moment of it. I love the random play that leads to things and somehow being irresistible, especially if I've been gone for a week. I'm more forward and take more chances, and maybe that just does have something to do with how I care so much less about what he thinks or will think. I can take or leave all of this and him now, and I feel more empowered. But like I said, I don't want to wear out my welcome, so I'll probably go back home to Wisconsin soon just to stay away and regroup which is what I've been doing and I look forward to those little things. This is just a visit spot now. He's just a visit...friend? Someone. Something.

And so I guess I don't really care anymore. Maybe there are some mixed signals when doing this, but I know for sure we are broken up. I know for sure I do not mean anything to him. I know for sure he does not feel emotionally connected to me in any way. I know for sure he never loved me. So, I'd like to say that's a step in the right direction.