Treading Water
I almost texted The Ex last night. Ultimately I didn’t, because it was late (though I was sober) and he would’ve been asleep, or intoxicated, or in bed with someone else, and what I had to say was a little bit too long for a text. It needed to be a phone call, or a brief statement written on a post-it note, slipped quietly into his mailbox when he wasn’t home. I try not to think of him too much, or ever, but I inevitably do. I rarely feel any sort of animosity towards him anymore, which I think is good. I rarely feel the urge to be with him anymore, which is also good. But sometimes, there’s something I just want to tell him, not for any particular purpose, not to prove a point, just simply to tell him. It’s far too late for anything either of us says or does to make a difference, and I think it’s better that way. But every so often, there are fragments I think of and wish he knew, wish I could tell him and then move on. I did this once, but it wasn’t so simple. If you make statements, not for any specific reason, there’s always a chance that the one you tell will have the needs to then tell you something. It’s a risk. I might still, at some point, send him a note, or a text, because sometimes I feel that when I convey something to someone else, I’m truly giving it away and it’s no longer something that’s in my thoughts. I’d tell him for my own personal benefit, not because I want anything from him, but because I DON’T, so I want to give him back all thoughts involving him. Regardless, I can honestly say this is the most consideration I’ve given him in quite some time, which is a positive step. But now I need to go back to the business of forgetting.
