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I mentioned in passing earlier that I had gone through a rough break up several years ago. In all honesty, I was, what is now referred to as, ghosted. Here one day, and gone the next. He loved me one day, and then suddenly acted as though he’d never known me. Now before you assume that this post is about him leaving scars, that’s not it at all. While he certainly hurt me very deeply, he was then and is now one of the most positive experiences I’ve ever had.
I met him September 2008. I knew of him before we actually met. We had mutual friends and our circles overlapped. I didn’t have much interest in getting to know him, with what I knew of him I didn’t think we’d have much in common. In some ways I was right.
He sought me out, to this day I have no idea why, but he did. He spoke to me first, I was hesitant but didn’t want to be rude. Initially, we had small talk, I was a bit defensive, as I said I didn’t expect us to have anything in common, and I was unsure of some of the things I’d heard about him. As is my way, I was very blunt and asked him about some of his beliefs and other things I knew of him that seemed questionable. He was very open and explained his views to me, this was the beginning of me learning to see the world differently.
We talked for several hours at that first meeting. This is going to sound odd, but I knew then that he would change my life, and I knew then that whatever happened between us he would be an important figure in my life. I also knew then that it was going to end badly, even painfully. I knew then that I would be hurt, but I wanted to see where it went, and I was more interested in the experience of knowing this unusual man than I was in my own preservation. Although this feeling haunted me our entire relationship I still didn’t expect things to end as they did, and I was still surprised when he left.
Over the next several weeks we spoke regularly, and usually for great lengths of time. He was funny, smart, very kind, and fiercely loyal to those he loved. There were many things we didn’t agree on, religion was a major point of contention, but he was open to my opinions and I loved listening to his. Because of our talks I learned so much. I learned how to see outside of the bubble I’d been raised in. I learned how to listen to and understand the perspectives of others without judgment. I learned what it meant to appreciate the differences in others. Because of him, I grew as a person. I can say, and quite happily, that by having known this one man, I am the woman I am today.
Over the course of time our relationship grew. We went from acquaintances to friends, and then more. He used the ‘L’ word first, and he used it frequently. He treated me better than any man I’d known before. He treated me like I mattered as a person. He talked frequently of the life he wanted and he wanted it with me. He had dreams and plans, and I was a part of them. I saw our future together as a great adventure just waiting to happen, but in the back of my mind I still knew it would end.
In the final weeks of our relationship I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew something was going on with him, but he wouldn’t talk about it and I didn’t want to nag. Looking back I can think of hundred different things that it could have been, but I’ll never know what happened. There are many reasons I could give for why things ended as they did, and I could be wrong with all of them. I don’t know why he ended us, and I certainly don’t know why he ended it the way he did. I’ve come to accept that I will never have the answers to those questions.
Over the years my questions have faded, along with the hurt. With time I’ve come to the point where I wouldn’t know what I would say if I did see him again. I no longer care to know his reasons. I no longer wish for an explanation or an apology. Now when he crosses my mind it’s just a memory of someone I used to know. I’m thankful I met him, and I’m thankful to have had my time with him. In some ways I’m even thankful for the end. I still believe he’s a good person, and I still believe that at one time he loved me. He left many marks on me, some good, some bad, but all are important. These scars help to define me, and I have learned to embrace them.