Once in a while (typically when I am elbow deep in a sink of dirty dishes) my mind will wander off to reminiscence about past relationships. There are so many reasons they didn’t last, and I am thankful they didn’t. Sometimes, though, my bored brain will go on a little jaunt away from those terrible experiences and pop into these little memory pockets of the good moments. My first impulse is to push those aside. I feel uncomfortable and sort of like I am somehow betraying my husband. On the other hand, is my discomfort more because I’m ashamed of how long some lessons took me to learn? – Like, maybe date honest people?
My first girlfriend is presumably still dealing and also consuming more product than she sells. She was a chronic liar, stole from me, cheated, and managed to convince me for two years that her actions were either for me or my fault. She even put on a uniform every day any pretended to go to a job. I really am still baffled at how gullible I was. Nobody gets robbed THAT often.
Sometimes though, I close my eyes and again feel arms wrapped in an oversized, soft, bright yellow hoodie squeeze me close and a boyish voice say “Don’t worry, Babygirl, I got this.”
Just tiny blips that make me smile.
My second gf had an opposite work ethic from my first, but not much else was different. There was still substance addiction and a career in sales, but both within the law. I spent late nights and weekends alone. I took vacations to destinations I wasn’t interested in. I was cared for but discouraged from pursuing my own interests. I was encouraged to lie to my family so she wouldn’t have to meet them. Thinking about those vacations, my lips can’t help but quirk at the memory of a zoo trip we almost experienced. My girlfriend knocked on the ticket booth window, a perturbed looking woman opened the voice slat thing, said “We CLOSED, at 5 o’clock!”, and disappeared. We adopted the quote as an inside joke for years after.
My last girlfriend. She was the same, but with a badge. She wanted to always appear perfect, and in her world, that meant very, very conservative. It meant uniformity. It meant that I had to follow rules and any deviation would prompt repercussions – those were also my fault. I couldn’t be at her side before or after breast cancer surgery. It meant I wasn’t allowed to ask her doctor for an update. It meant she would become angry with me because I was at the hospital with her family more than “a normal roommate would”. I was not only encouraged, but ordered to lie to both our families.
One morning though, I was preparing to leave for work when my girlfriend walked into our bedroom and froze, staring at me. “You look beautiful. I like how you do your eye makeup.” she said. I still feel beautiful when I remember that moment.
These recollections aren’t a longing or a wish for change. My life now is beautiful and full and perfectly imperfect. I think those little moments remain scattered throughout my memories just enough to keep kind my thoughts of the past.
Creating Peace From the Pieces 