[QUOTE=naiadknight;877265]Honey, if you need someone else in a "same kinda crazy" way, we have a futon, 2 sleeper sofa, an air matress and 250 counties in Texas for the 206 bones in the human body. (254 counties, technically, but I know 4 I'm not putting them in.)[/QUOTE]
Texas scares me a bit, though actually I should be afraid of Arizona now. Have a history with a dude that lived in Dayton (how I WISH I could forget the name, but I remembered it a couple of years ago and now I can't forget). I mostly came to terms with him in my head last year, but I still avoid thinking about it when I can.
That's a weird story for the ol' journal sometime.
Anyway, thanks for the well-wishes as always. I am being driven slightly crazy by the 3rd computer to kind of crash this week, but at least it kept me busy for a bit longer.
[QUOTE=namelesswonder;877319]Texas scares me a bit, though actually I should be afraid of Arizona now. Have a history with a dude that lived in Dayton (how I WISH I could forget the name, but I remembered it a couple of years ago and now I can't forget). I mostly came to terms with him in my head last year, but I still avoid thinking about it when I can.
That's a weird story for the ol' journal sometime.
Anyway, thanks for the well-wishes as always. I am being driven slightly crazy by the 3rd computer to kind of crash this week, but at least it kept me busy for a bit longer.[/QUOTE]
Yeah, but you'd be there with Naiad. She'd probably kick his ass and then hand you his heart if he bothered you :)
Tell you the truth, most of the northeast scare me. After living in Texas my whole life, being able to drive through 6 states in a day is wrong.
[QUOTE=drssgchic;877323]Yeah, but you'd be there with Naiad. She'd probably kick his ass and then hand you his heart if he bothered you :)[/QUOTE]
Nah, the heart's evidence. I'd just hand her a county map of Texas with x's on it and a label that says "he's not in these counties)
I feel like maybe I've written about this guy before. Well, writing will give me something to do. Story-time!
15 years old and I was frequently submitting emotional poetry (of the angsty-teen sort) and photos to DeviantArt.com. I had a small following and a few people who regularly commented. I don't remember when he popped up, but a guy who referred to himself as British (can't remember why now) started commenting. Gods, he was [i]eloquent[/i]. Even when I looked back at his messages years later, it wasn't just flowery enough to win over a depressed teenage girl desperate for romance or a way out. He had a gift with words. We started exchanging messages and somewhere over the course of a month or two, his best friend started chatting with my best friend. We chatted on AIM. He asked if I would be his girlfriend. My little heart a-flutter, I accepted. He was so gracious.
Our best friends started dating too. We used their phones to talk from time to time, and I bought a phone card so I could call guilt-free from my parents' house. He was 2 years older, also severely depressed. It was relieving, I guess, to have someone who could so deeply understand how I felt. Then I had [URL="http://namelessw0nder.blogspot.com/2012/03/national-self-injury-awareness-day.html"]my overdose[/URL] and I don't think I even thought to contact him, even if I'd been able to. I asked my bf to break up with him for me and she did. He conveyed that he was heart-broken, but understood the need for personal space. Later the summer, it came up in conversation that he still loved me (through my bf and his bf chatting about how British and I were doing). We started "dating" again. The same secret phone calls, this time only on my friend's phone so my parents' wouldn't know (I was told not to go to that site again after my sister spilled the beans on him, and didn't have internet access at home for the rest of that summer).
We met in person once and I had my first kiss. Bf's boyfriend came up to visit once on his own, and I tagged along and fell asleep in the hotel room while they made out. The second time, they tried to pretend like British hadn't made the flight, but we got there and I found his stuff hidden under the bed. I started searching the room and heard a knock at the door. I opened the door and he was there, standing off to one side. I don't remember speaking, but I know that I ended up huddled under the blankets on his bed, watching him from under the covers as he walked around and settled in a chair next to it. After a minute or two, I crawled out and onto his lap. I remember feeling... conflicted. "This is real. This guy that I've been talking to, here in the flesh. I can touch him." I was terrified, I had never been physically close to anyone like that before (not in any intimate kind of way). We held each other for a while and maybe whispered some things. I gave him a little notebook I'd been drawing in for a while, thoughts and pictures from my everyday life. He gave me a "mix cd", with one song, "Beautiful" by the Smashing Pumpkins. We ended up going for a walk at some point, and also ended up under the covers together (very chastely, keep reading). He asked if I would kiss him. I remember I did not like having his tongue in my mouth. That was my first kiss. We kissed for a second time later, same feeling. I regretted that I could not have had a simple closed-mouth kiss for my first.
Months pass, now it's February of 2005. We've been together for a total of 8 months. I am feeling fed up with his lack of communication, with my attempts to drag myself out of depression and his lack of the same. I remember him telling me about getting drunk and hurting himself. I remember him telling me about blacking out in the midst of a depression and coming to with a noose around his neck. I break up with him. He resists a little and then probably says something beautiful about "respecting my wishes." He contacts me a couple of times over the years, once while drunk, checking in, and I find out each time that he still loves me. I write stories about him coming to find me and my friends defending me because I am so afraid that he might do it, but nothing he ever said indicated he would. It's just a terrible feeling that I build up inside (thanks, anxiety, old pal).
I deleted my old accounts a couple years ago after backing up the poems I didn't already have (sometimes I would open the submission box and just write). I deleted the couple of messages he sent to me on my current account. I found out when my bf from high school ended up talking to her ex again a couple years ago, that British is with a guy he'd been crushing on for a long time (knew about him from when we were dating), living in AZ. And that he would drop anything and everything to be with me, or who I was, still. That really frightens me. I take solace in the fact that I have grown a lot as a person since then, so if he still feels that the girl he knew then is the girl he'd want now, it's not really me.
Last year, I had a break-through one afternoon and suddenly felt like I could let go of a lot of the fear and resentment I've held about him. I still don't like to listen to that song, though I love it. The nostalgia associated with it is too strong. I can listen to A Perfect Circle's "Mer de Noms" sometimes, but that also makes me think of him and that period of deep depression. I strongly associate feelings with music so it's dangerous for me, frankly, to listen to that album. It's frustrating, that I still let him have such a strong hold on my emotions, but it's up to me to let go. He has not directly contacted me in over 3 years, that I can recall. He does not have a Facebook page, which is fortunate for my anxiety, otherwise I'd probably stalk him to make sure he never comes to this area of the country.
It is hard to write about this now, admitting that I can be obsessive over something so long past. I'm embarrassed that I still worry about him showing up in my life. I'm embarrassed that I worry about something so NOT likely to happen, for so long. I don't know that there's much I can do about it, I've been trying for a long time to forget. I don't really know I feel about it anymore, either.
I had/ have an ex that obsessed with me. I can understand that fear. No need for embarassment, I still occasionally worry about Stalker ex figuring out where I live and showing up, trying to convince me to divorce Geek and marry him.
I can't believe I'm the fool of all people saying this, but it's ok. This shit is normal for anyone that's had a person like that in their life. I can't promise you the concern ever goes away (if it does, I'll let you know), but I can promise you that, if you need me to, I can be there physically to help protect you. No, I'm not being facetious or kind, or any of that. I'm as motherfucking serious as a heart attack. Just give me a running start, because Maine's a long way from here.
*Hugs and squashles* Going through the foot lockers of the past hurts, but some days, it's the only way to find the future agin.
[QUOTE=namelesswonder;877382] He was 2 years old, also severely depressed. [/QUOTE]
Well at least you can write about it, ya know. We've all got our dark times we don't think about.
And really? 2 years old? Robbing the cradle, FTW.
I'm not as badass as Naiad, but I'm going to be working on my hiking/back country skills here soon. We've got a LOT of back country we can hide you out in if you feel the need.
[QUOTE=justyouraveragecavemen;877399]And really? 2 years old? Robbing the cradle, FTW.[/QUOTE]
haha I caught that too...
I have an ex that I sometimes stalk on facebook through his *wife* just to see where he is. We dated during my last 2 1/2 years of high school and first 1 1/2 years into college. He introduced me to the drug scene as he was a well known dealer in the area. I now live in the town where he grew up, but his family has moved to another town. Last I knew, he lives in a town about 30 miles from me. He introduced me to a LOT of people and back then, the story was that if you quit using, it was because you were in with the cops. Truth be told, I am in with the cops, went to college and graduated with a criminology degree focusing on law enforcement with the desires to work in narcotics enforcement (DEA was my main goal). I didn't chase that dream b/c of DH and our desires for kids, etc. Anyhow, every once in a while I see a car and SWEAR old boyfriend is in it and I'm terrified of letting him see where I live, although, truth be told he could find me if he wanted to. And I see a lot of the people we used to "do business with" from time to time, and I'm still alive so I assume that means ex-boyfriend doesn't care anymore.
so, yeah, you're not the only one with psychotic ex-boyfriend issues.
I'm still confused on where y'all are getting this idea that I'm a badass. Seriously, just 'cause I come from a fuckedup past with more than a little threatened violence....