Edit: My friends have pointed out that I apologize too much for Beck’s behavior and I take on guilt that isn’t mine. It’s fucked up that Beck latched onto one conversation to divert his guilt and I shouldn’t be the only one saying sorry! It’s clear how well he fucked with my heart and head but I don’t care anymore. When I re-read this entry, I asked myself, “Who is this goddamn pathetic shell, crying her heart out when she didn’t do anything nearly as egregious as Beck and she shouldn’t be apologizing for her reactionary behavior! If her ex couldn’t see it coming after he started the rock rolling, then he’s being as selfish and self-righteous as a person can get. That’s not what she deserves.” However, the sincerity in this entry is why I can’t delete nor hide it now. I did hide it because I was disgusted by the raw emotion but because I’ve found myself again, I’m letting it remain up.
I have to be a better person and I have to take the high road though it is harder, more arduous, the view/knowledge at the top will be worth it. Almost every entry before this one (ask me if I proof read when I’m a mess? Nope, though I should) is simply anger flowing out. They don’t represent who I really am or what I can do; they don’t represent Beck well either. I’ve been writing in these circles that are the death knell to my break-up pain. I can’t emphasize enough my regret, sorrow and sincere apologies to Beck, but it doesn’t matter b/c he’s using my words to stay angry with me. I know I’m truly at the point of no return and staring at a crossroads: one to continue hurting and the other not giving a damn at all. Forgive the duality in my entries – it’s how crazed my head and heart are but the gist is still, “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I have said, wrote and done but you hurt me and I retaliated. I’m not asking for forgiveness this time around – I just needed you to know how much I would have done differently but mostly, because I owe you the following entry.
We both said and did things to hurt the other: I’m still brave enough to say, “I’m sorry, Beck.” I’m sorry we fought after my cousin Joyce’s wedding and the state it left you in – you think I forgot but I didn’t. My head and heart were reeling from the verbal lashing you gave me in public but I remember the strength you had to stay and the way I had to be humble enough to stay, too, because I was in the wrong. I’m sorry moving from Hackensack and Totowa were so stressful times that brought us to our knees. The silver-lining was loving how well we live together like we did in your uncle’s Flushing apartment: I loved that you let me love you in the unspoken ways. When I was more cash strapped after the fire, you took care of me and accepted the little gifts I made; that’s what hurt the most when you threw them out because it was a tangible action of rejecting me/my love. I put up walls because I felt you had stopped listening to me even when I could see you were hearing my voice. I felt the cautious distance two wounded hearts will take as protection. We’re more alike than you know, a spiritual mirror so to speak. It’s taken me a long time to understand why you had to downsize/get rid of material possessions but I do now. Last, I’m not sorry for seeing you at your most vulnerable and being able to hold you while we held on through the storm; I never thought less of you for it – I admired you for your courage because that’s what it took. I’m not sorry for waiting for you to develop/come around back in 2010; if I ever let you down, I tried to make up for it. I’m sorry my all wasn’t enough.
I know it’s hard to believe but a part of me is relieved even if I’m aching and bleeding in these entries. I forgive our argument and I forgive the pain. I know you know it but I also know it’s good to hear it. I know you’re right that we can’t be around each other: it’s too easy to fall in love over and over again between us. A platonic relationship will never exist in the hemisphere that was built with all our heart and soul.
I don’t, can’t, regret believing in you as a person, man and best friend. Even armed with the knowledge of who Beck has become, I hold no anger that he’s not who I fell in love with and that he’s not mine because what matters more than me, our issues, come what may: is his sense of self, his stronger confidence in himself/beliefs/thoughts/feelings, his self-reliance, the journey he’s taken and continues to take. He’s grasping everything I’ve wanted for him: security (being able to stand alone), rebuilding his family ties, much improved health or view on food and a desire to interact with the world as a whole. He believes in himself now and nobody has the right to take it away or to make him doubt himself ever again. He’s a better man because of me and I should find bliss in that.
“If just one person, believes in you, deep enough and strong enough, believes in you. Hard enough and long enough believes in you, it stands to reason that you could start to see what everyone sees in you,… then, maybe even you can believe in you, too!” ~ Jim Henson
I understand now that he doesn’t forget the good deeds done for him – he just doesn’t/can’t acknowledge it in the heat of the moment and he’ll employ hyperbole non-stop. I needed his guidance and reassurance and it hurt when he belittled me for being needy by telling me I should know better or just going on the defense by withdrawing from me. My next reaction was to swiftly close some doors to Beck for a while. I knew I loved him but I wondered if he knew, too. You see, he’s always needed someone on his side and I chose him above the rest but his neediness made him paranoid at times. He’d argue like I was every villain in the world (which couldn’t have been more wrong. I just have my own mind. I’m my own person) and there were many times I couldn’t convince him I was on his side. That’s what a partner is: someone who will have your back when the chips are down. But a relationship is still a two way street and he had closed off his half last summer.
With how close I have grown to his family, I feel like we’re watching a fallen on one knee, golden Beck in an arena battling himself in an enlarged, grotesque form and we’re chanting his name, telling him, “Get up! Get up! Stand! Fight! Live and love.” We know we can’t reach you and we would take your place, fall upon that sword but the rules, the ones you made, make that impossible. We pray that our unspoken love and support can reach you, that you feel our spiritual hands helping you up and our legs helping you stand for your benefit, to proceed. Not to take away your backbone or crush you with responsibility (at least, that’s on my part). Please do not make a repeat of the last seven years: you can settle your scores on your terms but it has to be done on someone’s clock, not your own. You know being the judge, jury and executioner isn’t right, isn’t the way life or the Universe works because there must be balance. Reach out to people, put it/everything, you, on the line! This is why you loved watching me interact with random people in our vicinity: I was open and friendly and in turn, more often than not, received the same from perfect strangers. I’ll always be outgoing and people will always be drawn to me; I know it to be true because I watched it happen with my mom and became aware of the same thing for myself when I turned eleven. I felt your nervous energy in the beginning, worried someone would hit on me or hurt me, and I tried to reassure you I was going nowhere and those strangers would remain as such (and did, obviously). Only in the last 2.5 years have I seen you make the effort/take the chance on socializing with strangers, your community/neighbors and be at ease; it made me really happy and proud to be by your side. It was reinvigorating for my drained batteries every time you stepped up to the plate and changed in a positive direction most beneficial to you: I never needed more than that from you.
From the start, there was always a deep sadness/ache that I sensed in you from time to time and I couldn’t reach. You hid it well in the first few months but I was able to surmise that unfinished business haunted you and it was nearly tangible (you still carry deep feelings about your past choices/mistakes: release them). You fully admitted you were finding yourself and wanted me to know that you didn’t know where it would put us in the future. I agreed to stay and walk the path with you, to enjoy you and help you for as long as it was ordained. I thought I could teach you mercy and patience and forgiveness – to some extent I did, didn’t I? It was like an invisible hand pushed me away every time I tried to tell/show you that people can change into beneficial friends/family if you pointed out what was wrong in a manner both parties could understand; resolution cannot come and be implemented overnight because there’s an adjustment period where the kinks are worked out and the fine details chiseled in. I thought if I absorbed your pain and inner conflict, you would feel less burdened. We both know I’ve been the more upbeat/positive half but it’s difficult to maintain when I feel drained/the need to unburden myself.
Beck, I mean it when I tell you I regret not being more patient/open to your suggestions and attempts at resolution/peace during or after an argument in these last 3 years. It didn’t feel like there was room for me (my flaws, quirks, hyper-bouncy self) in our relationship and the quality that makes me intimidating takes over. I know I’m fierce and stubborn – it’s what has carried me, you, us, my friends and family over tough obstacles all my life. It’s a strength you came to rely on, too. There was no way I could be your everything (rock, driver, confidante, partner, best friend, soul mate, verbal punching bag, chef) without some time for myself, to recharge. I know I took that on myself and I’m not accusing you of taking advantage of those qualities. When love wanes in a relationship, it’s not the cue to leave: it’s a cycle (cosine graph, I think) where lovers fire it up in the beginning, lose the momentum and need to recharge (literally and figuratively, like the way you become hungry around me), so that they soar once more. I thought I knew what I was talking about when it came to love: I had/have a lot more to learn. I know I’ll do better next time because I’ll choose better for being wiser.
I think it’s fucked up you thought it was cute your ___ contacted me – do you know who saw the immediate result of that? Yeah, my dad who told my mom. The people who have been generous and kind to you, who welcomed you without giving you a hard time. The ones who did not deny you our culture’s financial generosity and celebrations. It’s not in me to share dirty details with them: in that way, I helped you save face should you ever run into them on the streets of the city. I always found it perplexing you espoused rejection of money, stature and things but you still asked of me to lie to my parents about your situation. You wanted the appearance and respect and the cost was heavy on me: I hate lying to my parents, you know that. I hate lying in general but it’s gut wrenching to do it to my mom’s face. Do you know the definition of the word “noble” any longer? Even that, I forgive.
I don’t want to fight. I hated fighting with you and there were many times I felt you not only deliberately dragged me into one but you enjoyed watching me crumble: especially if you felt wounded or disrespected. You didn’t know how to stop… I didn’t always either. I’m sad that we won’t ever see each other again. There’s no scenario where it’ll happen voluntarily and if by happenstance, I’ll be the one to turn around and leave.
Some part of you is better for knowing me, right? Remember this: You are intelligent. You are capable of many things. Trust your instincts but temper that with patience. You are handsome, inside and out. You have the inner strength to stand up to any situation that is wrong and correct it. You have you. Bashkimi mer. Fallum der eit, my once best friend, for the journey, the culture and privilege of knowing you.