I Miss U 2

What exactly am I supposed to do with this bit of information?

"I have to tell you something…and..well..I have to tell you because it’s been bugging me for such a long time…bothering me really badly. I miss u a lot."

This was the exchange of texts between my ex "The Phantom" and I. The Indian guy whom I am still very much in love with (to an extent) and whom I have been able to get over slowly in my own way. We have not resembled a couple in any way for a little over a year now. We may exchange conversational words every so often (mainly via IM or text), but even that has been on an extremely limited basis. Since breaking up with one another my life became my own again. Breaking up was one of the best things to happen to me because I began to exert my energy in so many other positive ways. I joined theater, volunteer, volleyball, and focused more intently on school. I grew happy with myself after such a long period of self deprecation brought on my the insecurities that he fostered. And still…I love the boy, but I love myself more.

I was honest, quirky, playful in my response, but kept it moving. I told him not to be silly that missing one another was only expected and I’d be offended if he didn’t. He went on to say it was selfish and greedy of him. I told him it would only be selfish if he missed me for the wrong reasons to which he admittted that he missed me for "both wrong and good reasons. Wrong being sexual, good being just talking to you." I told him again that it wasn’t wrong to miss me sexually and re-emphasized that I would be offended if he didn’t. I made sure to note that it would be wrong if he was having sex on a constant basis with someone else and once again he admitted, "it’s wrong because I am with someone else sexually." My response to that was, "then yes, awful for that person. Sorry to hear that."

I definitely am in a much better place to handle such situations like this with him. Shortly after that I bid my farewell and told him I had to get ready for mass. He ended with saying, "good day to you, from me, miss you." I was honest and said, "Miss you too, dear."

I admitted I miss him in some way, every day, but that I was dealing with it in the most healthy manner. I told him that I had vowed a long time ago never to make such a fool of myself if someone decided they no longer wanted me as an entire package. After my demise with Smiles and how completely heartbroken I was, I swore it wouldn’t take me years to build myself back together again and that I would not cry my eyes out day after day after long long days, over it. I would allow a grieving period and then push forward with all the strength I could muster. I told him that I’ve learned that the process of heartbreak was an opportunity to rebuild ones life and re-evaluate themself, and that through our separation I had done just that. I changed so much of my life and for the better. I took to the wheel of my own life, so to speak. I think my message was clear, concise, and poignant enough.

But I’m left with thinking, "what was the point of all that?"

Yesterday evening, I was helping my mom clear a lot of boxes from the basement because my uncle is remodeling it to have his stepdaughter, her baby and the father move in. He gave my mom very short notice and she’s been extremely stressed over the matter. One week for a hoarder to clear out an entire room full of her things is certainly not sufficient enough. So, in doing some clearing, we came across a box of childhood memories that belonged to she, my brother, and I. There were things we created in school, cards and letters we wrote and in all of these memories I found a series of letters my mother had written my father right before their divorce pleading with him to see the error of his ways. Being the alcoholic/womanizing monster that he was,  she still gave him chance after chance in hopes of salvaging her dream of being a family woman and creating a family life for her children. These letters, some of them, brought me to tears for several reasons. To start, they were reflective of my moms heart being poured out in word form. Secondly, they mirrored letters I’d written to The Phantom. It was almost disturbing to know that I had dealt with a situation so very similar to my moms, and tried with the same effort, but yet I was never married to the guy, nor did we have children. To have wasted so much time and energy on someone who was behaving in such a similar fashion to the man who is the root of many of my issues (my father) both startled and angered me.

My mom was and is the strongest woman I know. I adore her.

Well, I think that’s all for now. It’s Valentines day and I have so much to celebrate! I have love – lots of it – love to give, love for the taking, and love on reserve for that special someone, someday.

Much Love To All My Readers,
The Missed Rose