The Last Time

Spiritual Journey Of A Slut
Dec 22, 2022
9 min read

Updated: Jan 5, 2023

The Last Time

by obycf

Preface

Today I hung out with my ex. This has been common for the last few months of our 1.5 year breakup so far. It's been friendly this time around - never really more. He has been nice or borderline-nice but distant. I have been nice but too pushy and available at any given moment. Obvious circumstances when looking at it based on the law of attraction. I've felt used, mostly. Although, I probably forced him into using me for all I'm so eagerly willing to do for him all the fucking time. My overall feeling has been horny because that's the avenue I felt the most loved prior. It's my "normal". Would you think I'd lead any differently if you know me at all? The hypersexuality is real and unruly. I like that part of me so it stays.

I realize that his lack of it is cause for me to step back and analyze how actually happy I'd even be if the stars aligned and we worked out... he is much less acknowledging of his sexual side openly. I believe him to be just as sexually driven but unable to express that with me. Or, he just doesn't look at me in that way. Who knows. He is the first real human puzzle I've come across in a very long time. I can't seem to understand him like I've always been able to understand people otherwise. I am an understanding mother fucker, I stg. I see and feel the "why" in everyone I meet except my ex. I don't and can't and need to stop trying but it's the catalyst to my ruminating thoughts about him. I can't seem to come to any conclusion that fits because as soon as I do, he does something to throw it out the window. I'll stop there because it will likely have me back down the same rabbit hole I believe I'm just now escaping from and I'm glad to escape. Fuck this rabbit hole.

So today was the last time. It's long overdue. I can't quite grasp the amount of love I have for him and for me, now, to explain how important this has all been to my journey. It's been too focused on him and lacked with regard to myself. I see my worth and I see how valuable I will be to the right person [people]. I want to feel valued for once because I do not feel valued with my ex. I never really have, overall. I see that I am and that he has value for me... but he hides it. That's not something I'm willing to put up with anymore. As much as I KNOW my value I want to FEEL it from who I choose going forward. I just do.

Today was just it for me. In the grand scheme of things, it's extremely minor to what all has actually happened and it's seemingly random but it's also not that at all... it's just another metaphorical slap in the face. My face is still hurting from all the times prior, though, and now I'd like it to actually heal.

It started out with me driving to his house, per usual, bringing him something that he needed. I'm left with the idea that what I have is more important than who I am and my company in his eyes. It's a broken record now. After I got there, my neck started hurting randomly and abnormally. I have the intuitive knowing of the body, the first step to heal myself and others. When something abnormal happens, all the little hairs on my skin stand up and alert me to look deeper into what it is. Usually, my first gut instinct is the answer. My gut instinct told me I was sick. Possibly meningitis. I realize this is a big jump from a stiff neck to meningitis but give my nursing degree and experience and understanding some credit. My ex won't give that same credit but maybe you, reader, will give it to me. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that now, 24 hours later, I am in fact sick with a mild fever of 100.6, writing this, while I lay on the bathroom floor at my sister's house to wrap my mind around my thoughts and feel somewhat productive while my body needs rest.

When I expressed what I believed to be going on with me to my ex at his house, he seemed annoyed and disinterested. He also rarely gives me any benefit of the doubt so he had multiple naysayer comments to throw in. I knew better. I layed down to rest my neck for a minute. He pretty immediately said "let's go outside! Let's do something! I don't want to lay around all day!" (After he had been laying around for multiple days prior already... and after I have tip toed in his room while he lay around for 2 years as not to disturb him in his precious slumber so I didn't get slapped in my face for waking him up accidentally). I realize my pent up resentment, I do. But, I took some ibuprofen and I got up. He called his mom and asked her what she wanted to eat. He didn't ask me. That's typical. We went to get him and his mom some food, I sat in the truck while he took it to her work and they ate. Then we went to get oil for the truck. It is days before Christmas and it is cold outside. I didn't want to be outside and I didn't feel very well at this point. When we got back to his house, he wanted to change the oil which is fine with me... but he wouldn't let me rest in his room while he did so. When I tried to lay down, he told me to come help him outside. I said I needed to rest, he didn't care. He told me to come outside again. I did. He said we needed something else from the auto parts store... so we went in my car. He drove. I asked if we could stop to get a milkshake, he said no. He was driving so I let it go. He finished the oil change and then he took me to get a milkshake.

We got back to his house and I finally laid down again for the 3rd time of the day. He immediately made plans to go to his uncle's house (per usual). Me laying down wasn't going to happen if my ex had anything to do with it. But, I can PROMISE YOU this: if he EVER is sick... if he ever just KINDA FEELS SLEEPY AND WANTS TO lay down - he WILL. And that's the energy I'm trying to get back to, myself. I am no longer listening to someone tell me I can't lay down when I am sick. Especially not someone that should want that for me and should feel some sort of empathy for being sick like he REQUIRES of those around him. The double standards are in the thousands over there in his corner.

By the time I left his house, I was crying because I was so sick and fatigued and because of his obvious attempts to do everything he could to NOT allow me to rest when sick. I desperately just wanted to lay down. Instead, I had to get up again, get my stuff together, and drive 30 minutes back to my sister's house. I did it and here I am. But, I knew when I walked out that this was the last time. Maybe it seems minor to some people but this is one of so many examples I could give that show that he just isn't going to meet me halfway and I am a fool for meeting him so far beyond half way. It is both of our faults... probably more mine because this is something that I have actively pursued and he is just along for the ride. So, I take the blame here but also, in the most lovingly way possible, FUCK YOU.

End preface.

Ya know when you just know it's the last time? You know so deep inside of your soul that it's just all you can take and what seemed like a bottomless pit of self destruction, heartbreak, forced attempts, pushing, pulling, crying, and destroying... in one sudden instant you reached the true bottom and it's quite a shock, really. You absolutely cannot handle anymore. You finally made it. It's not the end goal of course... as I'm typing this I'm feeling a little nauseous that after a year and a half, I've only now finally managed to hit the pits of hell and not only that but I'm actually writing about its' significance because it's me reaching the first step to mending my heartbreak instead of what I've been doing thus far which is immediately stomping on each new piece I've managed to half ass put back together... destroying every bit of progress I made each step of the way.

quote from the Rumi Oracle Deck by Alana Fairchild

Who was I kidding to think that my desperation and insane desire to be back together would fix anything? I knew better years and multiple long term partners ago to avoid this at all costs. I still did it anyway... over and over and over and over. I have poured my broken heart out an embarrassing amount of times even while knowing it would make it worse each time. And it did. It always fell on deaf ears and I don't blame him. I'm no stranger to what it feels like to be in his position in a break up.

I have been a disaster and I likely would have done similarly as he has done in these circumstances. Differently, too. But, the same. Ya know?

Just as I've been in his position, I've also been in this one, too, before, and I know the most likely outcome. It's what I've been throwing my chances at healing myself of my codependency and toxic love tendencies away for all this time. It's a hard pill to swallow but here we are, I guess. The likely outcome being me actually moving on. I realize that sounds ideal but it's bitter sweet. I know myself well... as much as I pour my soul into loving someone, I pour my soul into self growth and moving on, eventually. Once I've done so, there isn't any part of

me left to ever go back down that same road. It will actually be over, for the rest of my life. It won't mean I won't have love for him because I do and always will. But, it will be done for good. That's the bitter sweet part... I, up until now, haven't committed fully to that outcome because I so deeply feel connected to him and desperately wanted us to try again under different circumstances.

That's where I was living in la la land. Those different circumstances don't exist if I'm being truly honest. That's an immature idea on my part.

There's also another bitter sweet outcome that will likely come to fruition. It's what most people hope for, I think. I don't really. It will be far too late and it will not have any true weight behind it. It will be just another final round of the push-pull. It will be when he feels that first real loss energetically that I am done, too, one day. He may not even act upon it. I kinda hope he doesn't because it's a slap in the face after all I've tried for and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I can't judge it too harshly because look at what all I've done which may feel just like the same slap in the face to him. But, in my defense, I took actual slaps to the face quite often, too. He took a couple himself. I've never claimed to be "good". I have only claimed I want to heal.

It makes you just want to say "Are you for real? Now? Not all the times when that actually would have created a space to try again... instead, you pick NOW to feel that you miss me? Cool." FUCK.

I want off this ride. This ride is destruction. He wants off the ride, too. Until he doesn't. Which happens so perfectly at the times I am about to exit. But, in order to truly abandon ride doom and gloom (and love and bliss and joy and happiness), I must make the first real step for the sake of both of us. I'm off the ride.

I'll miss the motion sickness that I aquired from this ride, after my love for thrill seeking, in the weirdest way, for the rest of my life. I will likely always feel the phantom pains from the years of my brain hitting the back of my skull when I've been slung around in my seat. But, I'm tired of feeling nauseous and concussed for the sake of experiencing the excitement of riding it again and again. I've memorized every turn and every drop and I've obsessively replayed them all for good measure with well-intended-attempts to change the ride ever so slightly to make it more enjoyable for me. It's steel and concrete and has refused to budge. Who am I to try to do such a thing to anything other than myself, anyways. It's much more feasible for me to get off the ride and just let it be exactly how it is. I'm ready for a ride with a little less thrill and a little more enjoyment one day when the roller coaster PTSD won't sabotage all efforts.