A late letter to an ex about his ex

November 28, 2016

I saw her name again yesterday evening. You were paying for wine and also checking your messages. I glanced over and there it was. Kelly. Just 5 letters. Who would’ve thought that 5 letters could trigger so much anxiety and panic in me? It felt like my facial muscles hardened as I gasped lightly and willed myself not to react. My heart pounded, and I tried to slow down my breathing.

In… out… in… out… just like that. Just like how I would breathe when I would meditate. Andy, the Headspace guy, says that I don’t have to count, but that I can if it feels easier. I have always found it less painful to just repeat the words “in” and “out” as I feel my chest expand and drop.

That’s what I did as you placed the wine bottles in a box.

Patricia. That was her name. That was the other name which made me gasp for air when I saw it on his phone. But he isn’t YOU. They are different people; they ended things on different terms.

Stop living your past into your future.

I urged myself to stop that as I walked next to you, taking your hand when you offered it, trying to answer your normal questions, trying to ask you normal questions, trying to be happy next to you as I would’ve been had I not seen those 5 letters. Kelly.

I picked up the pace. I’ll ask him about it when we get home — I thought. Not reacting immediately, and using non-violent language is something I have been practicing. Things are better when I pause to think before I act. That does not, however, take away the sense of urgency of having to dissolve this discomfort I was feeling.

Podcasts, meditation, therapy, friends, books — I have been doing everything to understand that when I experience anxiety that it is just a feeling and that it shall pass. For a brief moment, I was proud of my progress and I smiled.

We spent the night talking about it, here and there. It was mainly just me asking questions and you answering them. You were honest, and at times, reassuring. I’m not sure what more I could have wanted. I wanted, and as I’m sitting here writing this, I still want, very much to let this go. I want that if I ever do see those 5 letters, that it is a non-issue. I want to know that she is not coming, and will never come between us.

“I wrote her a letter, before I met you. I sent it to her 2 weeks ago. But I mainly did it for myself.”

“But you were already with me 2 weeks ago.” “Why did you have to send her a letter?” “What’s the content?” “Was it intimate?” “Should I be worried?” A million questions went through my mind. I looked back at the time I called my ex boyfriend to tell him how I felt, almost a year after we broke up and I thought “maybe it’s ok, maybe it makes sense. Maybe sometimes you just have things to say and you have to say them.”

“…I mainly did it for myself.”

Patience. The word echoed in my head as I agonized over the fact that this woman probably knows a whole lot more about my boyfriend than I currently do. Patience. Getting to know someone comes with time. Be patient.

I want to be the one who knows all about you.

“I’m right here with you. I could be anywhere else but I’m here. You have nothing to worry about.”

March 27, 2017

We were no longer together.