Ghosts of boyfriends past

I’m sitting here trying to figure out where to even start. 2020 is really being the weirdest year for me ever. It’s like the universe is looking down on me and saying,”Hey! You know how you always wanted to find out why things happened? And you remember that time you asked for clarity? Well, here it is! All at once! Enjoy!”.

I really feel like I am being clobbered.

TS is great, by the way. I’m great with TS. We have a routine now and it’s actually wonderful.

Cute boy is….so cute. And this is where the weirdness starts for me. Because of my past, I do not trust anything he says. But he hasn’t done anything that should make me not trust him. I realized I am a product of having the wrong people in my life for the longest time.

Let’s start with my dad. I think that he never though he would be given the responsibility of raising a little girl by himself. I mean, who would? He never had the emotional maturity for it. It could be due to that he is an old school Spanish guy who was taught to be full of machismo and pride. It could also be that he was also raised and damaged. Growing up I never felt as though I was important. I was never shown that I was worth anything. Before you start thinking that I lived in a house of terrors, I was not. I was taken care of. I just was a little emotionally abused….writing that sentence is nuts. Yeah, so I went through life always feeling left out and left behind and being shown that what I wanted and what I felt was not something to be worried about. My dad’s second wife was a nightmare. She wanted me to move out. I was 13. She didn’t talk to me for 3 years and we lived in the same house. My dad always chose her side and backed her up. He figured that since I was his daughter, I would just be there.

Of course, as you would think, this led me down the road of self destruction. Trying to find anyone to love me. And I thought I did.

His name was Mark. I was 21. I thought he was so cool and interesting. We spent hours together just talking about whatever 21 year old me wanted to talk about. And then, the first punch. Which, of course, was an accident. Then, the second punch. Which, of course, he didn’t mean. And then the next punch and the next, etc, etc, etc. All of which he did mean. What did I do? Moved in with him! If I could stand in front of my 21 year old self, I would grab her and run. We all would if we could help our younger self. As you can probably assume that turned out super bad.

So it is now 26 years later. I am this awesome ball of greatness! My life is in full crazy but it’s good. I really feel as though I have a handle on things. Cute boy walks in and I realize, Oh hell no, you are baggage, girl. You need to sort your house out. As I’m doing this, realizing that I am worth more than anyone has given me credit for, I receive a facebook message.

The person asks if I know him. And it’s Mark.

For the past 26 years, I have looked at that time and carried the burden of the relationship on my shoulders. I have looked at that time as full of pain. I knew I would never get an apology but I always wanted to just say something to him. Like we all do, formulate a speech that I could deliver that would convey my sense of anger, hurt, betrayal and regret.

The kicker – he doesn’t remember me. He only knew my name because he found an old picture of us with my name on the back. He has epilepsy and Parkinson’s now. He wanted to know if we could be friends on facebook. He is now religious.

The feels, friends, the feels that came from this were overwhelming. I responded that I could not be friends with him. I was glad that he became a good person. I told him that I do not look fondly on the time we were together or on him. I wished him luck in the future. He thanked me for my honesty.

I always wanted an apology. I know I will never get one. But you know what this did?

Allowed me to take the burden off my shoulders and free myself.

I really hope that more boyfriends do not come out. I don’t think I can deal with that.