As time passes and I get farther and farther away from my last contact with Loserman, I feel more and more lost.
Every day I think of a new reason to call him – or I just end up mulling over the old ones.
- The valve cover gasket in Breezy is leaking oil into the spark plugs and needs to be replaced. As you may already know, he’s always been my mechanic and he’s the one who rebuilt Breezy’s engine.
- I still have his roller skates in a duffel bag in my back seat. I want to call him and ask if he wants them (and I miss my skate partner)
- Next Monday is my birthday… Having a good day with him is all I want as a gift.
The biggest reason I don’t reach out to him is fear of rejection.
And, I guess if I had to be honest, pride…
There were really bad parts to our relationship, especially at the end when he seemed to turn into someone else.
But, before that, there were amazing times.
If there wasn’t, I never would have started this blog and named it what I did.
I wish we could have found a way to communicate and work through the bad parts and learn from them, but he would get hung up on them and not be able to forgive and let them pass.
He taught me so much about myself. I really wanted him to learn and grow, too. Along with me.
Sometimes I wonder… When things started going a little awry last October, was he feeling lost then?
Did he just need me to persevere through his “bad time”? Maybe he just wanted me to be patient and let him work through whatever affected him so much before we went on our Sk8-Venture from hell.
Why wouldn’t he talk to me? Why was it always so hard for him to communicate with me? Trust in me? Believe in me? Confide in me?
I did all those things with him. I showed him over and over again how much I loved him, trusted him, wanted him.
Why wasn’t it enough? What wasn’t I doing that I should have been? What did I do wrong? How do I fix it?
Last year was really difficult for him and, as far as I know, he’s still homeless: living out of his brother’s apartment and friends’ trailer home.
This year hasn’t been much better.
Maybe I need to be more understanding. I feel like such a bitch when it comes to him. Even when I go back and read my last few posts about him, and see what an asshole he was to me, I can’t stop loving him.
I can fairly say that this past 9 months has been the longest 9 months of my entire life – counting when my ankle was broken. Aside from high school, there has only been one other time when life took so long to pass, and that was 2 years before I started this blog. Loserman dropped out of my world for 4 months. He wouldn’t talk to me, return my calls, answer my texts.
I thought I was in hell. I cried every day.
But eventually he came back to me.
Why can’t I stop feeling so much love for him? Why am I so drawn to him? Why can’t I stop hoping he will come back this time?
When will I be able to move on?
Now I have yet another reason to add to my list of reasons to call Loserman:
Sunday night at skating I saw a friend that I haven’t seen for a few months. She’s an in-line speed skater and fell in July while racing and got a really bad concussion. We talked about it for a while. Her team didn’t support her while they were at finals: they left her alone in her room (with a concussion) while they went to a movie. No one stayed with her to make sure she was all right.
She finished 5th at finals, even after she got hurt. Now that she’s recovered, she’s back on the team to show them that she’s awesome and strong.
When she finished telling me her story, she asked if I was still with Loserman… Then she remembered that we broke up and asked if I’d heard anything about/from him recently.
“He could be dead for all I know,” I said.
She looked and me and asked, “So, you don’t know what happened? He almost did die at work one night a couple months back.”
“Yeah. He was at the Littleton rink a week ago and I saw him. He said it was his first time back skating since ‘the accident’. Apparently, while he was at work one night [security guard at a stadium], he had to take care of some homeless guys and they beat him up real bad. He ended up in a coma and I guess he had to stay at his brother’s house for a few weeks in a dark bedroom while he recovered.”
My initial reaction was to say, “Good!”
“Have some humanity, Smitten!”
“I’m sorry. I don’t really feel that way, but I do kind of. It’s hard to explain, but he hurt me so bad in how he left me. I take a little peace in knowing that he’s hurt now, too. But also, I really wish I could have been there for him. Thank you for telling me this. I really appreciate it. And I am super glad that you are all right and back skating again!”
“Smitten, I know it hurts to know this, but he looked real bad and he was acting totally different. I know you might want to reach out and help him, but I don’t think that he would be a good thing for you. He seemed so changed. He’s not taking care of himself and he looks different, but not like from his attack or anything like that.”
I looked at her, astonished, and said, “That’s exactly what happened last year before we broke up!” and shook my head. We talked a little longer about it. Another friend joined us and started talking. I found a good space in the conversation and skated off to collect my thoughts.
The next few songs were a few of my favorites to skate to. So, I had a little music and skate therapy while I tried not to think about Loserman and his new predicament.
I left about 20 minutes early, as is my custom, and as I got into my car I was overtaken by sadness. I felt like I had betrayed my dearest and truest love!!
He needed me and I wasn’t there for him.
He was there for me when my ankle broke. He stood by me and went to my doctor’s appointments and took better care of me than my fucking husband did, and didn’t even live with me!
I still feel like I betrayed him. It’s killing me now not to contact him, but the only scenarios I have in my head are bad ones. And, as long as I have those negative thoughts, the conversation cannot go well.
I feel like such a fucking shitty ass person…
I know this is something I need to get over without involving him, but it’s even harder for me to fight the urges now. This next Friday, I want to go skating, if just for the chance to be able to see him…