Disclaimer: rough, raw...this is not good writing. it doesn't have to be. i'm not sure it could be.
This weeks prompt for Sunday Scribblings is First Love. I'm going to make myself do this one because: #1) I tried, but then skipped out on the last 2 weeks--I've been a Sunday Scribblings slacker; and #2) I haven't been writing much lately and I'm not sure why except that I don't have anything to say about my life these days. I find endless pleasure in noticing the smallest details in the things that surround me. But every once in awhile, like lately, I get sick of everything and the world lacks its usual sparkle--which, in turns, offers me very little to write about.
But that's not what I sat down to say.
I experienced my "first love" in high school. But I don't want to write about him or any of my old boyfriends, for that matter. I've ended nearly all my relationships with boys/men on good terms and remained friends with many of them for years after breaking up. But somewhere along the line I started to notice a pattern that I am no longer interested in: I dated (and fell in love with) men that used me. They were always good looking and usually good in bed...but too many of my relationships lacked commitment. To be honest, I don't even know why I stayed friends with most of them. Maybe I was keeping them around as backup in case nothing else worked out or maybe I was just plain delusional. I was not a stranger to recycling old boyfriends. I was stupid, too nice, and maybe a little bit lonely. I don't know. I think sometimes it was more than that...because I felt, deep down, they were good people who I had an honest connection with. But some, like I said, just plain used me.
When I met my husband--something inside of me shifted. Good god, everything in me shifted. I no longer felt the need or even wanted to stay in contact with old flames. I quit answering the phone when they called. I quit answering their letters and e-mails. And, still, I am not interested in maintaining friendships with any of them. With distance from several of these people I am able to see more clearly what too many of my past relationships were really about--and it is disappointing. I am disappointed in them and disappointed in myself for letting it happen and not seeing it sooner.
To me, old relationships are tangled webs. And the most tangled web of all is J., an ex-boyfriend (and close friend) who committed suicide shortly after I decided to cut off contact. He sent a letter and then an e-mail before it happened. I didn't respond to either. I'm not saying that I was the cause of his suicide, but I can't help but wonder if something I might have said could have changed his mind, could have changed the outcome. It is a hard thought to live with (what a cliched understatement!). Of all of my crappy, selfish, controlling, stupid ex-boyfriends--he had the biggest heart. But I didn't want anything more to do with any of them..because, let's face it, he used me too.
God damn it--I was going to write about my DOG!!! What happened???
and now I don't even know what to do with these words...I'm going to post this since I don't know what else to do (even though I feel like I just opened up a can of worms)...
Maybe tomorrow I'll write about my dog.
If you came directly to this post through Sunday Scribblings, I ended up writing more about it the next day here. In rereading this post, I realized how abruptly I ended. It took me somewhere I wasn't expecting to go...but I'm glad I returned to the subject. I think I needed to.