Greetings. It’s been quite a while. I usually only come and post here when I’m feeling very down, so I suppose my absence should suggest an improved mood, but I can’t really pinpoint how I am. I’m here and there. I feel like some sort of quasi-functional person. I work, I eat, I keep clean, and I go out. I’m sure I seem like an ordinary person to everybody else, but sometimes I feel like I’m suffering so much. It gets bad. Sometimes I wish I could just die.
I don’t really know why I’m feeling this way, or at least I don’t think there is any one reason in particular. I’m lonely. I feel abandoned. I’m unfulfilled. I feel like I will never be able to find true happiness again. If you’ve visited here before, you may have read that I went back to university to do a masters degree. I received decent grades, and I should be working on my dissertation right now, but I am finding it so difficult to get motivated. I know this is a good opportunity for me to come away with a brilliant qualification, but often I feel like nothing is really worth anything. What is the point in it all?
I think a lot of these feelings are due to my ex-girlfriend and our past relationship. It’s been so long that I feel silly it’s still affecting me to this degree, but we were together for half a decade. For me, that doesn’t just disappear. When I found out she had been cheating on me, she left within two days. She didn’t answer any of my questions, and didn’t really have anything to say about the whole situation. She returned about a week later, still with nothing much to say. I was a mess all throughout that time, but one night I really broke down. I felt so terribly lonely and broken-hearted. I lay curled up on the living room floor, sobbing uncessantly. All she could muster was to come in and stand over me and ask: “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer her, and after repeating herself she just walked back into the bedroom. That made me feel so angry. After spending five years together, and after tearing my heart apart, that’s all the sympathy she could muster? I went into the bedroom and said I hated her and wish I never got to know her. I do regret saying that, but I don’t think I was wrong to say those words. How could she be so unconcerned? To this day it haunts me. Did I really know her at all?
I think that’s part of the reason I am finding it so difficult to let go and move on. I want to know what she was thinking. I want closure. Eventually she did come into the living room and sit with me, albeit silently. I told her she was going to throw me away, and she assured me she wouldn’t. She said she would always be there for me. Look where we are now — it’s been over a year since I heard from her.
One of the first things I did during this whole mess was to email to her one of the letters I had written her from before we started dating. I wanted to show her how close we were even before we began a relationship, to try and stress that, although what she did had caused me immeasurable pain, I didn’t want her to disappear from my life. I wanted her as a friend. I even explained this to her, but no difference did it make — still I was thrown away. I feel so insignificant when I think about that. It’s terrifying, the fact that I can be discarded so easily, despite our history. It’s like I don’t matter one bit. I’m nothing. Of no importance. Zero. It plays on my mind all the time. I really wish she would reach out and offer me some closure. I am trapped and tormented by her lies. I just want to hear her say sorry. Did she really care that little?
I actually found out some information the other day. A friend of hers reached out to me, wondering where my ex-girlfriend was. I didn’t know, of course. It’s been over a year since she talked to me. I passed on the name of the person she was seeing behind my back, and her friend then found his Facebook profile. It seems my ex-girlfriend and him have moved in comfortably with each other. I felt so drained seeing their pictures, like my innards had withered away. Here I am utterly depressed because of her, and there she is, forging a new life as though I never existed.
In our last correspondence, I made it so clear to her how low I was feeling. She never replied after that, and guess what — I am blocked from viewing her beau’s profile. She actually went out of her way to cut me off so entirely from her new life. I think that’s so despicable. How can somebody knowingly hurt a person who loved them and cared for them so deeply, and then run away as though they are of no concern and never were. How can you cause so much pain and not feel guilt or a want or need to remedy it. How can somebody do that? I can’t fathom it.
I was freeing up some space on a memory stick about a month ago, and I sort of half-stumbled upon a collection of folders containing memories of us. Half-stumbled because I knew they were there, but I hadn’t actually looked at them in years. There were pictures, emails, chat-logs — all sorts. She and I didn’t live very close to each other when we first started dating, so for the first month and a bit, it was a long-distance relationship. Given that, we used to stay up all night and talk about anything and everything on MSN. You know, that old millennial chestnut. We did this for many months even before we started dating. I saved every single one of those chat-logs without fail. They were so precious to me.
I know I shouln’t have, but I read through some of them. Reading those exchanges made me sad. Many of the things we said to each other and shared with each other were so passionate. It was love, through and through. Some of those times were pure bliss to me. I was so happy. The happiest of my life, in fact. Just thinking about it now makes me cry. How can somebody that meant so much return from whence they came and become a almighty stranger? I thought our relationship was unbreakable, but I guess I was a fool. I still am a fool. What happened to the person I loved? How could she treat me like garbage and dispose of me so easily?
Agonisingly, I know there are no straight answers to these questions. Haruki Murakami’s novel A Wild Sheep Chase begins with a situation that elicits these very ruminations. When the narrators wife leaves him, he talks about their photo album, and how his wife removed every trace of herself before she left. The remaining images make it looks as though the narrator had been alone at birth, alone all his days, and would continue alone. That is how I feel. I was in a five year relationship, and now my ex-girlfriend has made every effort to pretend it never happened.
Murakami has written quite extensively about human relationships and the fallacy of understanding. In The Wild-Up Bird Chronicle, one of my favourite books, he writes:
Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?
I find affinity with his words, and often I feel as though he speaks great truths. I had known her for twelve years, and I felt like I really did know her, but now it feels as though I never really knew her at all. “People change” was her one and only excuse for cheating on me. This same person once said to me that if I cheat on her, she will hate me. She did the very thing that would have once disgusted her. If people can change so drastically, what’s the point in trying to understand anybody? I now recognise how and why people develop trust issues.
I feel that life is so short, and people are so fragile. If you hurt somebody so deeply, to then leave them to deal with it alone is utter cruelty. I feel as though I’ve been suffering inside for so long now. Sometimes I feel like I’m on the mend, but really it just permeates and permeates. I am a broken person, and I feel like the only one who can truly offer me closure is the person who caused it all, but I have a woeful feeling that I will never hear from her again. Why is it all so trying.