Forgiven and Now Forgotten

I thought I would have been nervous. I thought I would have nothing to say. Or I thought the entire situation would turn into a big who-can-be-most-defensive argument. However, I never expected what had happened. Which is nothing. Nothing happened. A little reminiscing. A few laughs. Some truth. Some awkward moments. And the long, silent pauses between thoughts. I felt at most comfortably uncomfortable looking at my computer screen eventually running out of things to say.

People may assume that I may have been flaunting the reality, hoping that maybe allowing him to see would be the way to get him to come to his senses and “just let go”. I had moved on, and, as I put it, “forgave and forgot”. Granted I may choose to forget certain things, but I can easily say I haven’t. Forgive yes. I have the ability to easily forgive people for the things they say. Years have gone by and I have grown to a varied degree to which I can put the past behind me and “move on”. Honestly, moving on was the best thing I could have done for myself. I now realize I was lusting over a person who related to a young teen. Which overall doesn’t seem right. Not that I’m claiming that he was borderline pedophile but some people might have seen it that way.

I had become comfortable enough to attempt to make contact, but honestly, I don’t know if I’d ever do that again. It was painful, watching him as he fought with his inner self not to say anything derogatory or too explicit. Or see him tear up and make those large gulps of air like he was hit in the stomach when I told him I was living with my boyfriend. He asked. I wouldn’t have told him otherwise.

I’m pretty sure he was expecting someone like he once knew. The carefree girl who had a very different opinion about life. Not the person who has basic knowledge of religion and what she was going to do with her life. Or actually knew where she was going with life {which didn’t involve living with my parents for much longer}.

I understand my step toward potential harm was potentially wrong, but I needed that. I made the realization that the guy I once spoke to every night for hours on end wasn’t who I thought he was. Or maybe at the time he did and I just forgot. There was nothing there. I felt no intimate spark. I felt no spark, I wanted to feel a puff of smoke and disappear because he was still trying to act like we were a “thing” and I just wanted to see if he was surviving.

He became a borderline “stalker”? Something I didn’t expect. Or did I? I keep photographs of my ex and all the things we once shared in a secret file on my computer. NOT! These things aren’t what they should be. They are things that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

Quite honestly, I will say this now, I don’t think the feelings I felt as a young teen are what I think they were. I think it’s more like the feeling a Twilight fan-girl gets when they see R-Pat when his skin sparkles in the sunlight.


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