extinguishing the twin flame
Last year amidst the chaos of quarantine I ended my ten year relationship. We were not fully committed to one another for the duration of that time with intermittent break-ups and literally him just not claiming me for a while. I was hopelessly devoted. I would cancel plans with friends because he told me to. I would lie to people because he told me to. I honestly felt kind of special to be that person he wanted to share his secrets with. Little did I know he was keeping some from me, just the same.
Even if I had known he was creeping around, I would’ve stayed with him. The thing is: I wanted to prove to him loyalty was a real thing. Plus I like the security of structure. I like rules and I like discipline because those things make me feel safe and loved (I’ve moved a bit on this opinion). If there is one thing I can give to my ex, it’s that he was disciplined in certain areas of his life. Chores were not that area. But things like working toward a goal, saving money, eating well, he’s really good at those sorts of things (so yeah selfish, you could say he was selfish). This shared trait for having discipline far outweighed my desire for a faithful partner, I guess.
Since that break-up, he’s been featured in my feed having gotten engaged (it’s been 5 months but hey who’s counting anymore). So I’ve been going through this long process of looking within since making that break-away. People told me I would need time to recover, but considering I’d been trying to break up since April, I thought I would be fine. Well I am fine but I did need time and I still do. Time to work through the memories in my head to find out which ones make me cry. I have meditated, done yoga, started taekwondo, and delved into the world of writing and philosophy. It’s been really transformative so now I just want to try to chronicle the break-up here.
It was December 31st 2019, and we were in Texas at a comedy club for a Tony Hinchcliffe show featuring Ali Macofsky. We managed to get seats in the front by mingling with other folks as we waited in the lobby. Many seasoned Kill Tony fans were there and had the whole process of getting into the show worked out to a tee. Then, we went back to our hotel after attempting to hang out with local comedians. It was a nice way to bring in the new year with comedy. I start there to say it wasn’t all bad.
However, as January rolled around, with him not having a job, he became lazy. He was always a bit apathetic or sort of melancholy if he wasn’t angry. I was projecting the same emotions back to him. It was a toxic cycle of waking up to do things for him only to complain about not being appreciated later. It was just very clear we were forcing ourselves to be with each other. There was still love. When you spend that much of your life (ALL OF MY 20s) with someone you love them but I no longer felt any passion in our relationship.
February rolled around and he was playing video games, interacting in a VR poker room, and complaining about not having a job. It seemed like he needed me to do everything for him and I realized that I’d enabled this behavior. I had tried to help him as much as I could in the past and now he’d become dependent on that. So much so that I was not able to do the things I wanted to do for myself. I would convince myself that after chores I was too tired. Then I realized I was even projecting my boyfriend’s fatigue. He always did call me a mirror.
In March we renewed our lease again for the second and last time. We had plans of moving into a home of our own but things just didn’t work out with timing and we were in no rush to take on a mortgage together. By this point I was really noticing my mind was instantly having second thoughts. I cannot describe the actual feeling but I didn’t have to imagine what my life would be like with him. He would demand I make breakfast. I would do the cleaning. I even took out the motherfucking trash. That ignites all the rage I have for this man, so I will leave it there. It was his one simple task so you’ll forgive me.
Well I don’t need to tell you what else happened in March, so for April we celebrated my birthday on the balcony of our apartment. He tried very hard to make it special and it was. But I had to tell him what was on my mind. Sure enough it came out while I was drinking the wine he’d bought for me after we ate the meal he made for me and the raspberry Bundt cake he’d picked out for me. I sat on his lap and faced him on a seat we’d taken out of my car together to replace with better ones. I looked in those eyes that I’d wanted permission and acceptance from for a decade and I said,
“When our lease is up, I think we should go our separate ways”.
This would come as no shock to him, I’ll have you know. He and I had an understanding from the beginning it wouldn’t be forever. It honestly made it really beautiful. Our circumstances and the situations we found ourselves in were what kept us together. We needed each other for the tough times. We were codependent and because we balanced each other nicely we kept the flame, though we both still fought for the spotlight. Apparently that message did not stay with him. Though I remember even crying about it and having the realization together and thinking “this may actually be okay; we may be ok after this”. I believed in life after love, to give Cher her answer.
Sometime that Summer he began working up in the mid-west, even though the whole point of us moving to Texas was for him to weld. I would scour the web on Craigslist and Airbnb to find him inexpensive places to do an extended-stay while he was driving hours and hours away. Meanwhile, during that same Summer I’d been watching the DarkHorse Podcast hosted by Bret Weinstein and Heather Heying. This was near the time they’d announced the push for a movement called Unity2020 (formerly DarkHorse Duo Plan).
I became enthralled with the idea and was just really happy to have a direction to move in that I believed in fully. I called friends and tried to get in touch with radio stations and news networks. I was pulling any strings I’d had from the past to get people on board with this idea of drafting a left and right candidate together onto one Presidential ticket. I couldn’t stop talking about it. Then to my surprise an entire community popped up around it on Slack. I got involved in the Day of Action and with time became co-lead of music. Their discord community also made me feel so much unconditional love that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
I’d not confided in my friends about my boyfriend because they already did not like how controlling he was. Since I am much smarter than them (obviously I learned that was not true the hard way) I didn’t care to hear their opinion about my relationship. Frankly, none of them seemed to have their shit together anymore than me and at least I was able to maintain my manic relationship. That’s really how I felt so what a fun ego to tap back into. Also my boyfriend did not like my friends so he’d frequently decide which ones I could even talk to in the first place. “Those people are bad for you”.
The people in the Discord revealed to me through careful conversation that I was in an abusive relationship whether I liked the word or not. Abuse isn’t always hitting and choking, though those’re certainly the more extreme tactics used. I was being abused in a subtle way and I knew that because I was so happy to be open. Even though I was scared thinking my ex could read my thoughts. I don’t mean in the literal sense, but if I took one misstep in this new social life he would spot the tell in my body and I’d have to confess to him I’d opened up about his restrictions.
I’d like you to pay attention to what I just wrote: I was afraid to have real friendships and real conversations. I didn’t know if I was going to slip up and say the wrong thing so I kept it generic. After all, being in a relationship with someone means you are a representative of them, as well. Again, thoughts I had.
As if it was written, he called me on the way home and he was drunk. He would probe me when he was drunk about my opinions so that he could shoot them down in an even more careless way than normal. Belligerent and angry he screamed, “We’ll see if you still have those balls when I get home”. So I packed my shit. I did not want to be there when he got home to find out what he even meant by it. A portion of it went to storage and the rest into my tiny-ass 5-speed Mazda-3 with my cat, her litterbox, and whatever I thought I might need for the next week or so until my items arrived from the storage unit.
Oh, but life had another story for me. Even though I had hours before my now ex-boyfriend would make it back to Texas, there was a hurricane making its way to my exact destination. The only place I knew for certain that I could go to was Pensacola where most of my family lives. When I called my mom she alerted me of the weather and I was forced to get a hotel for the night. This hotel would become my office for the next two days.
When I left that hotel and began driving I found out my mom’s internet would not be restored in time for me to get back to working on Monday. Since I still needed to work, I had to stop driving again and get a hotel in Baton Rouge. Each time I got a room I had to pack up all of my belongings on a bellman cart, then go back separately for my cat and her litterbox or else her screams would reverberate off the walls of the hotel hallways as she searched for her mama. Fortunately my manic state produced all the adrenaline I needed plus I began a fling with another guy I’d been conversing with online.
After all the skies were clear enough, I began the last leg of my trip, now to Jacksonville where my sister lives. She has a daughter and a son and I was so excited I’d be getting to live with them and be involved in their life. However, that ultimately did not work out because my sister and I got enough of living with one another in childhood. Had we known more about ourselves, at the time, things might’ve gone smoother.
Ultimately, I ended up back at my old stomping grounds. Sweet Georgia, and I missed these trees so much; this whole state has a healing effect on me. There were many calls between my ex and me that were emotional, regarding my car title, our codependency, and other unfinished business. It’s the gut-wrenching part of a break up that is truly the most important. On top of that, my storage unit arrived a full month after expected, my car began to not start, we had a gas leak in my current home, and I got dumped by that guy I was in a fling with, even almost drowned while white water rafting. Ah, what an analogy…
Sobbing with my face on the floor, while on my hands and knees has led me to some of the biggest laughs, biggest break-throughs, and I love my life now. I haven’t even done anything of real significance yet but I love my life now because I get to live it for me. There is no one here to tell me what I can and cannot say. And now that I have that power back, I will not let anyone or anything take it.
