Undone again and again

I spend too much time thinking about CZ's actions. One brief texting interaction with her today got me spinning and overthinking. My heart breaks every day for what I threw away.

But if not this, it could be broken every day with hope-turned disappointment. An absent partner.

I thought we could always be something special to each other, even without the romance. But instead, I just feel pain when I think about her. I didn't know it would be this bad.

I guess it's just in my mind.

But if I don't hold myself...

...protect myself...

...tell myself, "I got you..."

...no one will.

No one will.

She did say that once. "I got you." Maybe twice.

I liked to think I had that. Someone to say that. Someone who got me. But I had a sort of... intangible shape. That slipped through fingers but lingered long enough to give me that illusion of something when actually, whatever it was, it was always slipping away from me.

I was addicted to a fantasy.

Hi, I'm Roni and I'm a love addict. I think. I'm pretty sure. Maybe also a sex addict.

Has it really been 6 years since I typed into my digital journal?

I’m glad to say, at least I wrote - hand wrote - in physical journals. One of which CZ gave me. Classy leather… with my initials.

She had great taste. I ended our relationship in September of 2024. I dated for a while since then - badly. I still am. It’s awful in many ways, and I’m trying to come to terms that I’m a love addict. I’ve gone to meetings for about 2 weeks now… There are so many, each with a different focus, and different demographic as well.

“LAA Daily zoom group for stepwork”

“SLAA LGBTQIA+ group”

“SLAA Women and Nonbinary daily Toplines group”

What the fuck are toplines, I thought.

“LAA Women only whatsapp group” where, in searching for a sponsor, members repeatedly point out they are “heterosexual”, which I can’t help but feel is subtle way of trying to say “no dykes” ← But then - is that just what I think because I’m a love addict?

Everyone keeps wanting everyone to go to meetings. So I go, because I want to be good at this. I want to fix myself. Oh wait - I can’t fix myself. A higher power has to do that.

But It can’t be the same higher power that made sure my son would never walk.

And it can’t be the higher power that waited until I had cancer before giving me some semblance of self emotional awareness.

And it can’t be the higher power that fucks me over with said cancer again, and again, and again.

I know that higher power very well. For 10 plus years, I have prayed to him in open abundance. I have given him my very essence of being. I have turned all will towards him. I have done all that he asked of me through every vessel. I joined positive thinking visualization groups focusing on his presence in our life and the abundance he can - and will, of course - pour into us. I did ALL THE THINGS. I saw his miracles in every breath I took - because there were no open miracles to see. Not even the hidden miracle of being one of the 999 mothers out of 1000 who had a pregnancy without an NTD. That was low hanging fruit, god. Come on.

To be fair, I’m proud of the person I’ve become thanks to my son’s birth. I think more critically now. I see social constructs better now. And part of that is realizing the power that rests in myself - that reliance on god was a fool’s way out and putting my trust in him was a mistake.

I also know my ex very well. For five plus years, I have told her I loved her. I put her first. I did all she asked of me. I gave to her as much as I had. I bought a home for us, believing if I just gave, I’d also receive. I did ALL THE THINGS. But there was nothing to see except my halting faith, stuck in time, frozen right before a precipice like I can’t move; “don’t move, it will happen” stuck on repeat. But she couldn’t even spend summers with me. That was low hanging fruit, CZ. Come on.

How do I have faith in a higher power when he was just one of my exes.

So now. After one decade lost, the next decade in  god-dysfunction, and over 5 years with a breadcrumber, I’m supposed to form a higher power. I feel like others are starting from zero and I’m starting from negative one hundred. I really don’t know what to do.

cuts

I wrote this on Nov 23, 2020. For some reason,  I cut these paragraphs from what I did eventually post. But it's 6 years later and I want to tell my 40 year old self that all of you deserves to be seen. It's ok. Your words are important. I love you.

If you don't want reconstruction, you don't need a plastic surgeon, because obviously you don't care what you look like.

If you can't work, you can't pay your insurance premium, and if you can't offer us money, there's no point to you anyway.

If you have cancer, a nice popular one, you can sign up to be a cog in our medical machine - as we need cogs like you, and we will use you, for research, until you die.

I hate that I let it happen and I hate that there was no one around me to teach me otherwise. I hate that I was alone for so long with feelings I couldn't name, so couldn't recognize, that my path is paved in loneliness, and it will be with me, no matter where I walk.

Even still, I'm never seen. Only this shell is seen, as a tool to function in society and navigate its expectations. I estimate 90% of my resources going into this shell: My presentation. My image, and "the life I live to present to the world." I am very angry about wasting so much of me. My life, my youth, my relationships, focused on this idol worship.