I Hope You’ll Remember Me, My Ex-AP
I hope you will remember me.
And I say that in the kindest way.
I hope you will remember some of the good — and all the things we made each other feel.
I hope when you look back, be it months, or years, or decades from now, even if for a brief and glimmering moment in the great fabric of your life, that you’ll remember what a time we had. All the heart we had. That you’ll smile as you think about how we took on the workload (literally) by day, and then threw back shots at social hours by night. How we got along so well and walked in tandem and stuck together like glue, not one without the other. We were that close. I let you in so close in my heart. I hope you remember how important and cherished and cared for you were by someone though they are no longer in your orbit or walking your path. I hope you know I do.
How we confided in each other for work frustrations — and leaned into each other for encouragement and celebrations of successes. How we rode through the tough times and emerged on the other side. How we tried — and tried — and tried again. We could never get it right. That no guilt and no strings attached does not work. I read somewhere that men usually will feel guilty. And women usually will develop feelings. Therefore a guilt free, no-strings-attached affair is uncommon if not impossible.
But. Just because we weren’t endgame. Just because in our situations, we weren’t ever able to get deeper into commitment, does not render our time together as worthless or wasteful. I understand now, as I always have, that the moments that mean the most and are etched into your heart are so very brief and fluttering. I’ve always been one to cherish long before it’s gone. Anticipating the end at the beginning, pretty much. People, places, things. Sentimental and anxious to a fault. So, I appreciated the opportunity I created to lay it all on the table and leave no room for regrets. No words unspoken. Perhaps this was the key to letting all of this go. I needed to be allowed to. I needed permission to even though a big part of me wanted to hold on in whatever capacity.
I hope he knows. That it was beautiful to have had the honor and fortitude to crash into each other. To have had the chance to collide into you, and the unexpected depths of passion and pleasure, of intensity I had never known. It was raw, it was human, and it was real. It was love, in my eyes. I can validate myself without being told to believe otherwise despite the illusions, the fantasy, or the denial. These can all coexist. These are all things I carry with me, even still and for a while. The essence and heart of it all. Even without the label. Even after the end of us.
Because, there was an us. Undefined, unofficial, impossible, defeating, gut-wrenching, and conflicting as it was, I believe there was an us. And I’d never let myself render it otherwise out of spite or ego from the inherent rejection that was the ex-affair. The hurt coexists with all the good still and it’s something I think will take much longer to shake off. In my own time, at my own pace. Not rushing, not forcing. Yet as I continue focusing on myself, my hobbies, placing effort and time and intention in other areas of my life surrounded by those who build me up ... as I continue onto my seventh week of NC, I feel a bit stronger each day. And a lot more stable, a lot more at peace. Which is why I had to leave in the first place — for my sanity. I believe one day the hurt will hurt less, and that is progress. My mindset is no longer limited. It is now limitless. And it is within my utmost control.
I’ve let time stand between me and my powerful emotions, to lessen the dependency, to weaken the bonds. I’ve let distance smooth out the intense roller coaster of emotions that was causing so, so much despair to both. I am so proud of myself for sharing all I said, and for hearing him out with an open mind for all he could give. To hear his struggles, to hear his truths.
I sometimes wonder if I’m overdramatizing these things — the feelings I feel. The thoughts I think in my head. Am I abnormal? Do I feel way too much? Then I remember, I am authentic to myself and this is what matters. It is at the core of who I am to feel things so intensely and vividly. And I remember ... not everyone is like me — communicates like me, is outspoken like me, feels as deeply as me. And that’s okay. It also does not mean they had never cared, or never felt. They are them, as I am me. It just means we are all our own selves shaped and defined by our own unique experiences, and we should empathize for others and their plight, seen or unseen.
If it’s one thing this ex-affair has taught me, it is to have even greater empathy. It is to not view things and people so harshly or judgementally. Rather, it is to lean into, and not out of. To understand that everyone struggles in ways that cannot always be seen, wears scars underneath their exterior. Let’s not push people to their brink. Let’s not kick someone when they’re down. Let’s not condemn them to solitude. You see, what I learned is what being human is like. It is ugly, it is messy, it is raw, it is unexpected, it is ever-changing, it is destructive ... but oh, it can be so, so beautiful. The spectrum of experiences a single human can feel is truly breathtaking.
I am not any more special than the last or the next person. It’s so easy to hate on others, it’s also so easy to self-blame. I didn’t think I’d be in this situation — but who does? Who wants to go and disrupt/blow up their life, hurt the one they love, and then leave a trail of devastation that will take months if not years to pick the pieces back up? Who would want to break their own heart?
You see. The truth is. Even now, months later. Even when I am convicted to not have contact with him because I know the depths of my feelings that cannot be feigned or squashed even with time, at least not yet. Perhaps ever. Or perhaps someday soon. I’ll just let be, either way. Even still, I miss him so incredibly. For now, these feelings in all their pain and all their glory, are demanding to be felt.
I would never do either of us or our partners the disservice of putting everyone through hell again, whether realized or not. The ending broke my heart and has forced me to grieve in silence (no ending, no matter how gentle, leaves you unscathed), but living in that uncertainty and that impossibility throughout, sprinkled with some false hope of an imagined future at times, of closeness and distance at others, was really much worse. This really, really messed me up, broke me down, and shook me to my core. I am not the same now as I was then; my heart is bruised and battered. I hurt. But I do not regret it, and that is because this experience has been transformative. It was necessary for my growth and transformation. I will always remember him for this. For being the other half of the equation, for all he taught me about myself, and now it’s up to me to figure out the rest of my story.
For all the good, for all the bad, I acknowledge that he must be off limits indefinitely in order for me to truly heal and refind myself in the midst of chaos and turbulence. Sounds dramatic but it’s true. I fear I will fall for him again if I so much as hear from him much less see him. I acknowledge this fact and so am taking the necessary precautions. He must be avoided like the plague if I am to progress forward with my life. Else I’d continue choosing to be stuck, waiting for an impossibility. That is crueler than any goodbye.
It’s a twofold as well right. I don’t want him to see what I’m up to, because what I feel towards him is truly genuine — I don’t want him to doubt it based on social media. Both can coexist. And secondly, I don’t want to see what he’s up to, I truly, truly don’t. Enough to defriend and disconnect and block all socials. I still have him on my phone contact but perhaps one day, I’ll find the courage to say to myself that it’s been long enough — that I have permission to delete it now.
I’m still holding on — not to him or a future, but for what was. Our past shared history and memories that forged a bond so strong I am still struggling today to remove myself from it completely. Nostalgia has always been an integral part of my life and has a strong pull I can’t just cut off. So that will have to wait. Until I am ready to remove his contact, too. Or maybe I won’t need to, time will tell.
I would have loved to keep him in my life. I would still love to. And the opportunity is there, always open just a crack, for us to jump right back into where we left off. And that is dangerous and tempting, so the communication and access must be cut. I understand this. For me, it is the only way. Call it a friendship or a situationship or an illicit affair, but for what it was, it was worth all the while. And to me, it’s so important to keep it that way as to be remembered as we were and not ruin the essence of, to not cause a disservice to, what once was so vibrant, fulfilling, and filled with meaning. You were to me, once in a lifetime. And I — I will always remember you even when we’re old and so far gone.
Perhaps I write to give myself a voice, to validate myself for all the things that exist inside that could never be spoken or shared. To bring it to the light and into existence, so that I may release them in this way ... and lay them down softly instead of forcing myself to suppress it all. Perhaps this is my reality now and how I come to terms and cope with the loss of someone who once meant the world to me, someone who crept up so unexpectedly and was interwoven so tightly that I am still processing what this ex-affair meant for me and to me. It is my battle to face alone, and I am learning to get out of my own head.
So with a loving heart, I do hope you will remember me, my ex-AP. For all the good, and through all the bad. It’s been terrifyingly difficult at times, extremely isolating at others, and especially with the constant anticipation of the end. But now that it’s here, now that we’ve reached this point, we are trying our best, separately. Navigating my way as I am figuring out how, reflecting and introspecting, processing very slowly, and moving along as I should. And that is okay.
I hope you will remember me, the way I will remember you. I will remember all the ways you made me feel. I still care, and I might always. Even long after all has been forgiven and forgotten.
Know that even if you don’t, and even if I’m wiped from your memory as if my existence hadn’t mattered in the fabric of your life, I will understand it either way. I will understand that one needs to do what they need to do, believe in what they need to believe, in order to proceed forward with their life. Ever changing. I will support that from afar from where I stand, either way. I won’t stop rooting for your happiness even when the feelings have faded beyond recognition. Even when I’ve healed. I will always be here for you although we no longer talk and even when all this has become a distant memory.
Thank you for listening.
