I Bury The Dead

I had a rough time last night. 

Drank too much.

Cried – way too much.

Probably talked too much.

Spoke to an old friend, someone who was kind enough to take pity on drunk & crying me, who talked me down from my emotional ledge.  

Something we discussed stuck with me.

He asked me what I was going to do today.

I replied “Recover”.

He asked what I meant by that, and I answered that when shit like this happens to me…I bounce.

And then I had to correct myself.

“Well, after all the shit I’ve been through, I guess I don’t really bounce anymore…I just bury it, and move on.”

He asked why I bury it, why I don’t just let it go?

“Because I bury the dead. And if I let it go, I don’t learn from it, and it happens again.”

Then I laughed at myself, and said it didn’t really matter what I did, because it always happens again, anyway. 

Every time I open up and trust someone with my heart, I end up with a knife in it.

But, after thinking about it for a while, I did realize something.

I can’t let these things go.  Because when I let go of the hurt, and the wrong done to me… That’s when I forgive them. And they get another chance.

That’s what happened with J.
And look what he did with his forgiveness.

I’m too trusting, too forgiving, too nice…and I find it impossible to hold a grudge. But when someone crosses a unforgivable line with me, I can cut them off like split ends and they cease to exist in my life.

Just ask my brother.

So, no.

I won’t let it go.

I won’t forgive.

I will never forget.

And he will never be allowed another chance to hurt me, ever again.

This is why I bury the dead.

The End of the Chapter

I got a surprise tonight from OnlySon.

The ex is dating someone.

And he went to a birthday party for one of the new girlfriend’s sons with his dad, tonight.

Kinda threw me for a loop.

Basically, because the ex was always so anti-social, and almost rabidly, anti-teenager.  I wasn’t sure that he’d date again, much less someone with 2 teenagers, and a pre-teen, all boys.

My first reaction, understandably, was a sort of numb shock. 

Of course, I had a million questions, none of which I felt comfortable asking OnlySon.  I don’t want to put him in the middle between his father and I, and I don’t want him to feel like some sort of “spy” for one side or the other. 

And of course, I had to ask at least a couple of questions.  I found out that his dad has only been seeing her for a “couple of days”, according to OS.  She has 3 boys, ages 15, 13 and 12, and she was nice to OS.

Good enough. 

Then I had a talk with EldestDaughter.  We went out tonight to pick up some baby shower invitations for her big day a couple of weeks from now, and we both had to hash out how we felt about this.  ED and the ex had a rocky relationship, especially towards the end before she moved out. 

And me?  Well, I told her that I wished him well, and wished the new girlfriend good luck.  I think she’s going to need it. 

On the way home, ED told me something, that she “didn’t want the other person to be happy after a breakup”.  She wanted them to hurt, like she did. 

Understandable.  I totally get it.  I’ve had those feelings in the past, too, but I came to some realizations tonight after talking to A, and having him ask me how I felt about the ex dating.

“Are you hurt?  Jealous, angry, upset?”

Nope.  Mostly what I feel is relief.

I know, that might sound strange.  Most breakups are painful, my divorce was painful in many ways.  Not because I wanted him back, I hadn’t really had him for a long time, as I told a friend.  The marriage had died long before we formally ended it in court.

I felt relief, because this meant that I didn’t have to worry about the ex’s feelings for me anymore.  I didn’t have to worry that he might be “stalking” me, like my first ex-husband did for a while after our divorce, until I threatened him with calling the police on him in his own hometown… with the proof of his actions clearly dug into my front lawn, and my landlord aware that it had been him doing it. 

But then, after I got off the phone with A, I started thinking again. 

Do I really wish the ex well?  Do I really want him to be happy? 

Nope.

Not really. 

See, here’s the thing – I don’t want him to be happy, but I don’t want him to be unhappy, either.

I just don’t care about his feelings at all.

Because the opposite of love isn’t hate.

It’s indifference.

The same indifference I lived through while we were still legally married.

I don’t feel anything toward him… nothing at all.

And so I can close that chapter.  Finally.

And that’s a huge relief.