I vomit words
I am a person in a committed, long term relationship that I'm quite happy in but every so often I ask myself "Am I still in this because I love him or because I'm just scared that he'd do something really unspeakable if we broke up and I don't want to be responsible for that?" And then the answer is always "No, I still love him, it's cool" but then I think well what if one day the answer changes huh what the fuck then
It's weird because I think deep down I always kind of wanted a relationship like this where I feel like the other person genuinely needs me- I guess I'm just paranoid that it would become too big of a responsibility and I would crack but, again, probably just paranoia.
I guess the reason I'm even thinking about this is because I got hold of the phone number of the fuckface who shall not be named because he doesn't have his facebook privacy settings locked down, and I got a friend who's FB friends with him to give it to me and I got myself a random google voice number and have been sending him cryptic messages. To which he responds as though it's perfectly sensible that a nonsensical quasi human entity should be randomly texting him word salad at 330 in the morning, which is kind of beautiful if I'm going to be totally honest right now
Maybe that's the reason I have even the slightest small sliver of doubt about my life and my relationship as it currently stands... what I truly loved about the fuckhead was his sense of... adventure, let's call it. Because for as many times as it led him to visit me and then wander off somewhere, or disregard the most basic social conventions, or hit on my taken friends, every so often it was a flash of brilliance, like the aurora. A rare beauty. The person truly unafraid of rejection, the only person I've ever known who genuinely did not give a fuck what anyone thought, willing to try anything, to go with any stray thought that popped into that tangled brain. I hated and loved it. I hated and loved him I hate and love him present tense
That's the problem, right there. That's why I even question all the good things that have come into my life since then. He was a bad person, he did awful things to my emotions, and I know that I deserve better. But the only part of him that I 'see' right now is the beautiful part that I love, the part that gets a snippet of r/seventhworldproblems sent to him from a number he's never seen and doesn't respond with "well who the fuck is this" but rather "hmm, how intriguing, let's explore this and see where it goes".
Or perhaps he knows that it's me and I am in fact the one being long-conned, which I could definitely see happening.
I wrote a story about "us" in college, and if I should ever put pen to paper and spit out the novel that kicks around in my head I shall write another, because my life is inextricably bound with his in a way that I will never be able to explain, not with twenty books. I knew before we were even friends that our lives were somehow connected. I can still remember sitting in our computer chair after midnight and having that IM pop up from the screen name I knew was his. hello there stranger. And I sat there and panicked for a full minute wondering if I should respond or just close AOL and pretend I never got it and I thought to myself you may never get an opportunity like this again you better jump on it so I said something back and I believe now that was the nexus, the jumping-off point of my whole life, because if I had ignored him my life would be incalculably different from what it is now. So much of everything that has happened to me since then, he has somehow been responsible for.
Perhaps that's the reason I've undertaken this prank to begin with. Confession time: I really desperately want to talk to him like we used to do. I miss his perspective, even when it was off-putting. Even when I threw him out I knew it wasn't over; something about us, some shred of what we had the potential to be, will always exist. I can't accept his friend request; that would give him the wrong impression, and my friends would be furious with me (and rightly so). But I can do this, and be satisfied.
