Fear

It’s been an odd month. Tangled up with the cheer, stress, and happiness of the holidays was a very thick thread of fear.

In early December my roommate said a man came up to her as she was getting in her car and asked for me by name. She told him I wasn’t home, which I wasn’t. He said he would come back later. She said to just try calling because she didn’t know how late I would be home. I never received a call. I don’t know anyone matching his description, nor anyone driving the car he drove. Only two men know my rental address at school. It wasn’t either of them. There are very few records connecting me to my rental address at all. So a man I don’t know went out of his way to find my address and show up unannounced.

Three days later I got a facebook message from an ex. This isn’t just any ex. This man was wonderful and terrifying. I learned so much about life and love from him. He was so many amazing things rolled into one. And some of those traits were also those same traits that made him a drug addict and an alcoholic. Being a social worker, I can easily see it for the classic addict relationship that it was. He was in turns manipulative and charming and it was a long time until I realized how twisted our relationship had become and how much I had changed and how many things I had forgiven him. When I finally broke free he stalked me for four months. I answered his phone calls for weeks out of guilt and compassion, subjecting myself to his pleading and tirades because I felt it was the least I could do for hurting him so badly. He showed up outside my house and stayed there for two days until my uncle came and threatened him. He threatened to show up at school. He accused me of loving someone else and threatened to find out who it was and kill him. There was no one else, but he swore there was. I didn’t know it was possible to be so afraid of someone you loved. I stopped hearing from him. I thought he was gone for good until I received a phone call from him a year later saying he was sorry he hadn’t called in so long but that he had been in jail for drug possession charges. I missed his call and after listening to his voicemail, never called him back.

It took me years to find some peace regarding that relationship and how it ended. To deal with the fear, guilt, and anger. I went to a few al-anon meetings, hoping to come to some understanding and find peace with the fact that I left even though he needed me. So many choices, good and bad, were consequences of that relationship. I am finally in a place where I can look back on our relationship and remember the amazing times we had together.

And then he sent me a facebook message. He has no profile but his picture and birthday, and no friends. I received his message less than an hour after he created the account. It is pretty obvious he created the account solely to contact me.

But I responded. Because there have been so many times where I wanted to call and see how he was and make sure he was okay. I was careful not to give him any details about my life or whereabouts. And somehow we have been having this easy conversation.

It didn’t click  until after I sent my first reply that he kind of fit my roomies description of the man who had shown up. My heart dropped into my stomach and I started to shake and felt like I couldn’t breathe when it first occurred to me. She assured me it wasn’t him after seeing the picture. However, that should have been my first clue as to what a stupid, unhealthy decision this was.

All the scary, screwed up things he did doesn’t change the fact that I loved him. I will always love him. I wanted to be at the point where we could both apologize for how we handled our break up, know that the other was happy, and move on. There is no way I will ever in a million years go back to him, or even be able to friends with him. However, I thought that this was healthy on some level. Closure. Despite my panic that it might have been him appearing on our doorstep. Despite the fact that I know talking to him has made me jumpy and nervous when I am home alone.

I had a nightmare last night. I don’t remember the specifics, but it was like a classic teen thriller scary movie. There was a house with a lake and a bunch of friends and strangers at this party. And he was there and people kept dying horrible bloody deaths. And I kept running from him, convinced he was the killer. He was killing everyone who had an influence over my life and decisions besides him and killing every guy I might be interested in. And when he finally cornered me he asked me why I was running from him. And I told him because he was killing everyone and he was going to kill me. And he slumped and looked at me as if his world had just collapsed and said, "Is that what you think of me?" Then he just turned around and trudged away.

I was terrified when I woke up. It made me realize that even though he has changed his life and stayed sober, I may never find peace regarding us. There is a part of me that can’t rebuff his charm and his often sweet and philosphical nature. My feelings towards him will always be this dichotomy. Half of my wanting to find peace with us and remember the good things about him and half traumatized and terrified.

All of this in a little over a month. Except for the weeks I was with family and BW for the holidays, I have been alone in the house. There are some nights I lay in my bed so paralyzed by fear and paranoia that I can’t sleep. He instilled that in me. It is a weakness I despise in myself and something I can never forgive him for.