Past Due Books

Note: I wrote this late last night, but I stepped away to do something else and forgot to post it.

I feel a bit lighter today. The evening anxiety isn’t what it normally is. I’ve gotten myself into some decent habits for a change and I’m looking to keep that going for as long as I can.

In a previous entry, I had mentioned some thoughts I had on some women from my past. I guess you can say present because they still exist in the world, but their existence in my life is passive at most. Sure, part of it is my doing from things in the past, but I’ve explained my feelings about that the other day. There was a concert announced the other day and one of these people liked my story post about it, so I said something to her about it. We have a history, but it’s nothing that I would call serious. We met when I was probably 19 and bonded over music; a common theme with me. We had our summer fling, and although nothing serious happened, I grew quite fond of her. We were both super awkward teens, so it just kind of worked. I had moved closer to her in the fall for school and was promptly left a voicemail on my little candybar nokia prepay that she either was talking to someone new or just didn’t like me that way anymore. I can’t remember which. Doesn’t really matter. I stopped talking to her for a couple years, but then we started talking again as just friends. I was cool with this because she is a really cool person. We visited each other a few times during the fall of ’03, but when I started seeing my future ex-wife, our friendship was sort of forced to end. See, although the girl I was with had contact with multiple exes, with whom more serious things happened, my music-loving makeout friend wasn’t allowed in my life, out of jealousy… An early example of things in this life not being a two-way street (also, I just realized how much I like using hyphens). Over time, we eventually would send messages back and forth on social media and I would sneak in a phone call to say hi when I was driving home from work.

For the life of me, and I just cannot understand why I thought this was a good idea, I invited her to my wedding. She said she would be there, and unsurprisingly, left another voicemail on the day of to tell me that she would not be able to make it. I don’t remember the reason she gave, but she didn’t need one. The occasional message and like was sent over the years that followed, sometimes drawing the ire of the girl I married, but I dealt with it. There were far bigger issues in the relationship than her.

When I had moved out and started the divorce process, she was an obvious choice to talk to. She brought comfort to my life and I owe my taste in music to her; she put me on the path. The thing was that she had since gotten married. I didn’t want to do to her what she unknowingly had done to me by causing potential issues of this mysterious person writing… oh wait, you two have a history? oh and he just got divorced? yeah… I wasn’t going to do that to her. I laid low and went about my life, until she reached two or three years ago. We had been friends on social media, but like most people we are friends with on social media, we never speak; merely viewing stories in the background or liking a post as some weak semblance of connection. She started writing more and I immediately knew something was up. It’s all about patterns. She broke the pattern that she held for years. After playing dumb for a week or two, I brought up a random topic where I could fish and get her marital status out of her. Sure enough, he had moved out a few months prior. We talked all the time and sometimes I would call and talk on my long drives up North. It felt good. I had no desire to start anything up with her beyond being real friends again, although she did give an explanation once about why she did not go to the wedding. I promise you, dear reader, that I did not ask her for one. She said she didn’t think that she could bear sitting there watching someone she used to, and still had, feelings for, marrying someone else… especially to the one I did marry (I learned a lot about other people’s opinions of that girl without ever asking once I was divorced… even from some of her supposed best friends). That stayed with me and made me a little awkward, though I have to admit, the nostalgic feelings of her and early ’00s indie hit sometimes and I missed her more than I should have. I’ve kept that to myself until just now. The feelings of nostalgia, by the way… they’ve faded away for the most part since I started this whole process. It’s amazing how much of my life was weighed down by it. I equally loved and hated the wistful feelings and longing for days gone, but I don’t see or even feel the value as much anymore. I don’t think it’s a loss to be celebrated, but also not something to be mourned. I believe I’m better for having lost it.

Anyway, after that admission from her, I was hesitant to go visit her, even though I know we would have fun just sitting around, drinking beer by a bonfire and listening to our bands together. I was worried that she would think it something more, and even more, I was worried I would get caught up in the moment and oblige. She’s set in her world, whereas I still am searching for my place in mine. A lot of “damn… I can’t that weekend, but maybe next month” went on for a year or so. Occasionally a concert would come up and I did come close to going to some of the shows with her, but never went through with it. She went quiet this past summer and sent a long late night text to me, so you already know how that went, especially when it started with “I wasn’t sure if I was going to send this, but….” basically saying it sucks that we are never going to see each other and she’s kind of accepted that. I brought up a couple concerts during the late summer/early fall and, much like the wedding thing, she backed out at the last second with an excuse; this time a flimsy one. She texted me a month or so ago about a concert with two of our favorite bands; two bands that she introduced me to and were instrumental to my current taste in music. Being that it was a popular ticket and being that getting tickets to some shows seems impossible, we didn’t get any.

Fast forward to the other night when I wrote her about the concert I posted in my story, I was actually dead set on going with her as friends. It’s a band we both love and when I wrote her and asked if she was thinking standing room or mezzanine, she responded the same way that she did when she told me about her divorce: “funny thing about that…” but instead of “he hasn’t lived here in months”, she said, “i’m not actually buying the tickets. the guy I’ve been seeing is.” big oof. This shouldn’t have even registered with me, but it did. It was a gut punch. But why? I don’t want to date her. She said i’m more than welcome to come with and that it would be great to see me (she put a smiling emoji after). I responded and said that I would definitely feel awkward going to that particular show as a third wheel with a girl I have a history with and her boyfriend… and that she of all people should understand why. I ended it by saying I would just wait and see if they have a second leg of their tour and go to one of those shows instead (i put an ‘lol’ at the end, even though I wasn’t laughing or even thought it remotely humorous). I haven’t spoken to her since and she hasn’t spoken with me either. I’m not mad or even hurt; I’m happy that she found someone because she’s a really cool person, but that just did something to me.

Why though? I think it closed the last chapter in the last book of girls from my past. At that point I kind of felt free in a sense, like, ok time to go somewhere new. I could have gone “somewhere new” at any point in the past, but I wasn’t allowing myself for reasons of nostalgia and almost a hope for some kind of relationship/emotional time travel… Like a movie or something where you can just pick up where you left off. So many plot holes, but we always believe it on the screen. I lived in that movie fantasy world for most of my life. I mean it felt like things would always work that way, and while sometimes they did, it was just pure chance. So much of my thinking and life was built on this fantasy world in my head, while so little of it was grounded in reality. I feel like writing about that sometime and maybe I will. I don’t know if going somewhere new means geographically, although I would welcome that and am starting to actively look for the first time ever, but that moment that night might have been the last nostalgic feeling I had. An innocent one at that, but nostalgic nonetheless.

There are a few books that were on the shelf that I never returned, so to say, but I finally took them back and paid the fees. I guess i’ve been paying the fees for years. There’s the girl who I referred to as a second relationship… I’ve known her from the point where I started dating my future ex-wife, and it was off and on for years and years. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I was closer to her than my actual ex-wife. Missed opportunities, bad timing, star-crossed, or whatever you want to call it, but time moved on, she moved on, and eventually I did. She’s married now, and while I’m sure they have their moments, she’s with him and not me. In recent history, it was talked about that we should spend some time together now, you know… like in the past… but now that she is the one married, she didn’t think it was a good idea to do the very same thing she was cool with me doing when I was the one in a marriage. I was so bothered by that and how hypocritical I thought it to be. Then again, years ago she broke up with her boyfriend and I didn’t break up with my girlfriend, so… even-steven i guess. Also, that arrangement is far more stressful for the person who is already in a relationship than the other person, so she was smart to be a hypocrite. She had no idea what she would be getting herself into being on the other side of the equation.

Then there was the supposed best friend of my ex-wife, who lives for the social media life, desperately trying to be an influencer, hitting angles to hide the ugly flaws, and curating everything to have vibrant colors or that soft sepia tone, when she admits in private that it’s all a lie; even purchasing tens of thousands of empty followers for her account. For obvious reasons, it’s no longer convenient to have me and my ex-wife over to her and her husband’s place and sneak off somewhere, so I no longer serve a purpose. Not a big loss there, because there were never any true feelings there. I lied to her almost as much as she lied to me. I do feel the urge sometimes to put it out there with saved screenshots, text convos, and emails just to drop an anvil on her house of cards. I wouldn’t send it to her husband, because that’s not my marriage and not my truth to tell, but there are times when I would gladly set myself on fire if it meant that she burned too. It isn’t worth it though. Someday it’ll come out and I’ll casually let it slip to someone and act like I didn’t mean to say it. Or maybe not. maybe she can just continue her fraudulent existence, because I guess we’re all doing that in our own sort of way. She’s in pain and it shows with the fictitious life she’s built for others to see. Every purchased like has to hurt more than the actual friends who scrolled past the post. There’s nothing I need to do there.

I made the call with my ex-girlfriend and will always stand by that, though I will always say that she did nothing wrong, other than loving me more than I was comfortable with. I don’t have anything bad to say about her and wish her nothing but the best, because I believe she is a great person and the most thoughtful person I’ll ever know. It was difficult to end things, but I knew it was something I had to do because it was getting to a point where I could not do it anymore and to continue on would be leading her on and hurting her more. I also never wanted things to get to the point where they were in my marriage for fear that I might become the person I was before. She will always deserve better.

The former co-worker just ate at me for years and enraged me because I never got a reason why. My only guess is that when the possibility of us being a real relationship when I divorced came to be, she got scared. I also feel like I was just a challenge to her since I was, on the surface, very unavailable. Also, dear reader, if you knew what I looked like in person and knew what she looks like, you’d know that I was a novelty to her. I wondered about that during our time together, but hoped for the best. There were red flags everywhere. One being that literally nobody that I knew at work could stand her and it actually damaged some of my friendships; friendships that took a minute to reconcile. I knew the red flags and all, but who she was in private was different than what she showed the world. I learned lessons there. It’s funny though because my ex-wife always thought that I had a thing with one of my co-workers. She was right, but was wrong about which person. The one she assumed and was jealous of became one of my best friends, with whom nothing has ever happened or even attempted. But the actual one was never going to be the right one; as a matter of fact, she was probably a worse match for me than my ex-wife in the grand scheme of things. Completely opposite worlds and I knew that I would never ever be accepted in hers and she would never accept where I came from. Beautiful as she is on the surface, there is such ugliness on the inside. I know that we all have both traits, but the good was never going to be able to cancel out the bad. I told myself for years that it could have been different and we even had a couple moments together a few years ago, where we got drinks, but then the narcissism and gaslighting started back up. See, I didn’t know what gaslighting was back then, though I’m sure I had a black belt in it myself when it came to some people. I learned to see what she was and we did the whole social media friend thing, but I was on restricted on her end because it never showed she read my messages and only a week or two later I would get a response to a conversation that she initiated, even though she would post stories frequently. Eventually I saw that she had a guy in her profile picture. The exact kind of guy she needed: an equally wealthy guy who takes more time getting ready than she does. They’re a good fit and I hope that she ends up marrying him, especially since she’s a bit older than me and her beauty started to fade a few years back.

These are the women in my past. The glaring omission is my ex-wife, though i’ve made multiple mentions of her. I don’t think I need to say much. It’s weird, because if you asked me a year ago, dear reader, who I would be writing a post like this about, it would undoubtedly be her. I’ve seen how she is now and how she lives her life. There’s nothing I need to say because the universe is doing its thing without my words or intervention. She’s been with a guy now for something like… six years or so. A previous pettier version of me would point out the aesthetic differences with a smirk on my face, but some people don’t value that as much… Personality and character does matter (see my last paragraph). They might be engaged now or even married for all I know. My family still talks to her and her family, but would definitely be the last ones to tell me if that happened. I used to wonder and bring her up sometimes when I was around them, but… why? I made the decision, not her. I was unhappy for most of the relationship, even before marriage, and just kept wishing for things to get better; that my decades old feelings would return and that somehow the good parts about her from decades ago would return, while leaving the bad traits of her decades old self behind (I promise you that I realized how ridiculous that sounded at the time, too). The truth is this… I’m happy for her. I’m happy that she finally found someone who wasn’t there for her past and loves her for who she is, and not someone who was around all those years ago and is utterly repulsed by what she has become.

I lost a lot of my life to these people, in ways even more meaningful than days on a calendar, but I didn’t leave empty-handed. What does all this add up to? I think it’s a weight lifted. It’s allowing me to see ahead as I drive on and not looking in the rear-view to see if they’re looking back at me, too. Where am I driving to? That remains to be seen, but it’s to somewhere where the only things that people know about me are the things I share with them. No past to reconcile, wrestle with, reminisce about, long for, pine away for, or wish for… I have no idea what books are in my future, but I at least know now that I need to return them when I’m truly done and avoid the late fees from piling up.