Strong Enough to Withstand NC
But too weak to withstand contact with my ex-AP.
My journey is a slow one, and is one in which I am independently learning more about myself than ever before. From my personality to my sexuality, from my viewpoints to my lack of boundaries and tendencies. From seemingly trivial things to even bigger traumas that helped shape and mold me and my perspectives. This learning lesson that came at such a high cost but was absolutely necessary for my personal growth. For that — I am grateful.
There are days when he passes through my mind and I acknowledge he still exists in my heart, even if not in my life. I am able to move forward with my day even with this minor setback.
Then there are other days when I get a bit stuck in my own mind. Wondering if what we had was real then how could he be fine? If we were both there in those same places at those same times, feeling the feelings, then how could one leave feeling completely different than the other? How could one become more attached after otherworldly intimacy and passion, while one could pull further away? I sometimes get carried away challenging history or rewriting it — or imagining an alternative future outcome, with him. None of which matters except to keep him alive in my mind. None of which is helpful now that I am pushing forward in my path of recovery and peace.
As part of my healing journey, I communicated everything to him in that final closure conversation in January (my first post here was written the day after that closure conversation). I approached the end so rationally, so empathetically. I am proud of myself for that. I held nothing against him nor did I hold anything back in the sharing of my true feelings. He knew how much this (forbidden, secret) relationship was affecting me and causing extreme anxiety, stress, and turmoil. He also knew the depth of my feelings towards him. I heard and acknowledged his guilt and shame towards his relationship and society’s expectations. I wished he wouldn’t hurt or suffer anymore. I knew we both experienced the highs, yet would inevitably suffer the consequences of the lows that never failed to follow.
In that final conversation, he wondered why we couldn’t remain friends. To keep the other person in our lives, as we’d previously and continuously proclaimed? “No matter what, let’s continue to care for and support each other, to keep the other in our lives — in any capacity,” is what we said throughout. We cared that much for each other. We meant that much to the other. We so valued the other’s presence in our lives. So, what changed then?
It was me. I changed. My feelings grew substantially and significantly, and I finally admitted to myself I have finally had enough, that what we had could never be enough for me to feel full or fulfilled. I’d always be left feeling empty and abandoned and rejected if I kept reaching for someone who was never going to reciprocate my love in the way I needed. Although he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt me, ghost me, reject me, or abandon me, these were all guaranteed emotions and consequences that would exist by the very nature of an affair. And I could no longer deny that this is how it is going to be.
If only it was enough for me, I could have stayed. Yet I could no longer accept this fantasy when reality was creeping in. I could no longer deny my feelings just to keep him in my life, when it was torturing me and chipping away at my self-worth, my self-esteem, my self-love. I needed to find that love within me and provide this gift for myself. I needed to provide my own validation based on the good in me I know exists, not look to him to rescue me and lean on him to validate me. Who knew I was missing this? Not me. Not until I poured all my love into him and what remained was a hole so big that I completely lost myself.
I have been there and done that; I have tried again and again with each break or distance between us, official or not, to attempt and be “just” friends. That equated to hiding my feelings, suppressing my expression, and more or less overriding the depth that existed inside of me towards him. I was lying to myself, pretending not to care too much when in reality I cared tremendously to my core. I kept convincing myself I wanted nothing more from him, and acted accordingly, when in reality what I really wanted was a true, genuine, in-depth relationship. I wanted more effort, more time, more communication, more connection, more priority in his life. I have shared this with him before, and it became clear it was never anything he could give.
And let me tell you, it ate at me, settling for crumbs, and at times made me resentful towards him too. Until I finally realized what an impossibility that was. The only way out was to walk through hell and accept all the losses, to feel all the grief. I had to stop hoping, wishing, waiting, and dreaming for something that was never going to happen. This reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Awareness, acknowledgement, and acceptance took even longer. I am still working on acceptance. To accept the loss of him from my life, forever, is not an easy pill to swallow. There was a point I would have said and believed with utter conviction that it is indeed the hardest thing I’ve had to go through, leaving someone when all you wanted was for them to stay. When all you wanted was their love.
I knew I never wanted to resent him. I knew I never wanted us to burn to the ground where we left with the worst impressions of the other. After all that time, I wanted love. I wanted care. I wanted understanding, I wanted connection. I wanted support and to offer my support as well, I wanted to muster as much peace as possible — even at the bittersweet end. I cared and I still care, so much, for him.
I had a major breakdown last June (while trying to convince myself I was capable of being “just friends” and let him know I would be on my healing journey — that it could take months or more for me to finally be ready to hear from him or to face him). And so we started our first “official” NC.
I had taken that period as a healing opportunity to go all-in with therapy, with antidepressants, with self-help books and tools, with encouragement through podcasts, research, and readings. Anything to feel less alone and isolated. I was enforcing NC and he was respecting that request/decision, emotional as that outburst was. I was finally feeling good, in control of my feelings ... the chaos in my mind quelling to a point where I could hear my own voice again. Feeling so strong that when he reached out four months later (to make sure we were okay for our mutual coworking friends’ group’s trip) — I responded. Happily.
But ... from that contact, the seed of excitement grew. My feelings which were lying dormant, once again came alive. I was going to see him again! He was asking how I’ve been doing! He was excited to see me as well! We were finally going to be able to “catch up” after months of silence. Maybe, just perhaps, we could start over and be friends for real this time. No hidden intentions.
Or so I thought.
My hope still existed inside, and it couldn’t be contained even when I thought I’d killed it. But false hope is hard to kill.
I wound up right back in his large enveloping arms, gazing into his warm brown eyes, feeling his fingers and his lips that knew my body all too well. Responding and reacting in ways you only would with a lover. The hope set in again — this idea that perhaps he feels this way too, perhaps he sees a possibility with us, too (he didn’t) ... and following that, like a script, and as you can imagine, the distance (from his side) ensued. You see, four months was long to go without, but it was also not long enough for the familiarity and the bond we developed to fade. What we had was far too magnetic to deny, far too catastrophic, even after time and even after distance.
I was definitely not strong enough to resist what I truly wanted, which is him. In every sense of the world, for all the good and through all the bad. I say is, because til this day I still want him. I still love him. I still care as much about his well-being as I did then. I might always carry this love as a part of me. It’s okay either way. But I now know with certainty that I am not strong enough, might never be strong enough to withstand contact with my ex-AP. It is easier to maintain NC than to struggle with contact knowing I’d always want more when it’s impossible.
Some things are better off letting it be, when grasping tightly on is only causing self-destruction.
And what you keep instead, are the cherished memories (though you may have rewritten some of it), and the knowing that although what you had was real, you can also accept that what you want is a fantasy.
I am early enough in my NC journey (8 weeks now) to still feel the pangs of rejection and hurt, though subsided tremendously, even if it was of my own doing. I can admit, he rejected the true authentic relationship I yearned for, but I rejected what was left and severed the ties. Not out of spite, nor out of resentment or ego. I ended it with a heart full of love. Wishing him well from afar knowing I can no longer be a part of his journey despite how I may wish to. Offering myself mercy and forgiving the heart that beat too hard, felt too deeply. Giving peace to both, in time. That’s how I think of it, and that’s how I know I won’t reach back out. I have a purpose and goal, and that is for both to find happiness where it meets us and continue that path we chose, even when it means without each other.
I’ll hold us both accountable for the chaos and hurt we’ve caused. I am also continuing to forgive both and extracting the lessons as they come, so that all this pain would have meant something in the end.
Thank you for listening.
