Demons (and lovers) of the past...

I have had six different boyfriends in my brief and mostly uneventful life, but only two of whom I feel to this day were very significant, only two of whom I am certain I loved...and still love. 

And perhaps not so oddly enough, the relationships ran on nearly identical courses, ending in much the same way, catching me off guard both times.  The first one nearly destroyed me.  This second one...well, I guess that remains to be seen what I do with it.  I see parallels between what is happening in the aftermath of the breakup with me and The Boy, and what happened with The First Boy.

The following is an e-mail I sent to my ex-boyfriend Mark, three years too late.  Now that I've sent it, I'm starting to question my own motives.  It won't exactly accomplish anything, but made me feel better.  But it quite possibly would have been better to write and NOT send. 

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Hey...I don't know why, maybe I'm just bored and nostalgic today, but I googled you and came across your column.  Let me just say, I was impressed.  Your writing sounds much more confident than it used to.  You've found your voice. :)  

I was reading your column about absinthe and having stopped drinking.  The column triggered some painful emotions for me, things that I needed to confront you about at the time, but didn't out of fear of rocking the boat.  One thing I'm learning is that I NEED to rock the boat when that little voice deep down says something is wrong.  Just another bullet on the List of Things To Do Differently Next Time.   

So, not that it matters any more now that so much time has passed, but here's some things that I should have said.  You know what used to hurt my feelings the most when we were dating?  Multiple occasions when you showed up at my apartment hours later than promised, completely drunk, dropped off on my doorstep by your friends.  And the way you pressured ME to get drunk when you were drinking.  Or the way you were only amorous when you were completely drunk.  That made me feel like shit about myself for a long time...that my boyfriend could only bring himself to have sex with me if he was drunk.  

Funny thing - my liquor cabinet is completely full these days.  Has been ever since we broke up.  I recall having to replace MANY of those bottles while we were dating...and haven't bought a bottle of booze since (except for the brandy I bought the day before Thanksgiving in order to make brandied cranberries...a HIGHLY recommended holiday dish).  That seemed really weird.  I started thinking about it.  Then I realized that I never have been a big drinker, except for the odd rum & coke when I go out with my friends.  Well, that's not entirely true...there were those two birthdays when I got completely smashed and one very ill-advised night with Robert.  Nothing good ever comes from drinking.  

Anyway, so much time has passed and we barely communicate these days; I don't know why I hung on to those hurt feelings for so long.  I even thought I'd let them go, but reading that article just triggered them again.  It's must just be remembered pain, like an itch on a lost limb.  It's the weirdest thing...in grieving over the end of my relationship with Jeff, it seems like most of my time in therapy is spent talking about you.  

I hope things are going well.  I was really glad to read that you stopped drinking.  Life is better experienced with clarity.  And a liver. 

Johanna