As the last two years have dragged by and people continue to ask me if I am still in love with my ex, I realize how interesting it is to ponder the way love works.
Do I still love Tanner? The short, easy answer has become a solid, "No." The long but real answer is eternally more complicated.
Yes and no? I don't know.
How can I say I do not love him when I had given him three years of my life, and him three years of his to me? How can I say I do not love him when I had come to know every side of him, even the ones he was terrified to show? How can I say I do not love him after everything that had happened, both the good and the bad?
How can I say that I [i do] love him after everything he did? After the lies, the cheating? After the manipulation, the gaslighting, and the scapegoating? After the torment night after night of desperately searching for the reason why I would never be good enough? And after how he left...
Do I still love Tanner?
The answer is more complicated than "yes" or "no."
I loved him with all I could, for three years. I gave him all I had to give for three years. [i Three. Fucking. Years.] You don't just [i stop] loving someone after investing every fiber of your being into loving them. You don't wake up one day and change your mind. Something like that doesn't just go away.
Do I still love him? In a way, I suppose...
I love who he could have been, who he should have been. I love the future I had planned for us. I love the idea that came with him of a family and happiness. I loved feeling loved, even if it didn't last the entire three years. I loved the idea of someone wanting me. And who he had started out being when I first met him is someone I will always have love for, deep in my heart.
He can stay the hell away from me, though.
Some nights I am too terrified to drag myself to bed because I am afraid of who I am in the dark
So I stay up late in well lit rooms hiding behind brightly colored screens instead
Reaching desperately for a spark of inspiration
Or a fire of passion
Or anything, really
I search with fingers crossed
Praying to whatever is above me that I can make it through the night
But nights are hard when the dark calls out your name
And sings you an angry lullaby
Nights are hard when it takes everything you have to just stare at the shadows cast over your wall from the street lights outside your window
I reach to the other side of my bed
But you're not there anymore, are you?
[center I keep thinking about my future. What does it hold? Where am I going? What am I even doing?]
[center I don't fucking know.]
[center I keep thinking about babies. About [i having a baby.] What the actual fuck, me? I'm not in a position to have a kid right now, yet baby fever is still hitting me like a fucking tsunami. I don't know what to do about it. Like, I look at Reuben and I just can't fucking helping it. I want this with him so damn bad. But he's fucking homeless and without a job and I'm living with my stepmom.]
[center I turn 20 March 15th. He'll be 20 in November. We're still kids ourselves yet I'm here thinking of bringing new ones into the world. Lol, how fucked up is that?]