About a month ago during a moment of anxious lonesomeness I reached out to my favorite ex-boyfriend. Though long healed from the crushing grief of his rejection, my heart finally restored from the oppressive pain left in his wake, I knew it was a mistake. I regretted the decision before I even made it. I made it anyway.
It started with a phone call but before long we were wrapped up in each other, our fingers and legs twisted together like sticky pretzels. Our hearts swayed to classic crooners, our souls moved to great guitar riffs and we blew wisps of green smoke until they curled around the sweet melodies that drifted through the speakers. We drank shitty beer as unrestrained thunder raged in the night sky. We reminisced. We laughed. We ate spaghetti burritos. By the time we fell asleep the sun was already roused from her slumber.
And it felt wonderful. Until it didn’t.
I am here to confess my recent relapse. My name is The Banshee and I am a love addict. Even when I possess a rational awareness that a man is not right for me, I sometimes choose to love him anyway. Even when I am certain that a relationship is not fulfilling for me, that it does not offer the kind of love I deserve to receive, I sometimes engage in it anyway. Even when years have gone by, even when I claim to seek a man who is also seeking me, a man that can give love in the same way as I do, I sometimes call my ex-boyfriend, a man who I know in my very soul will absolutely never be able to offer me what I deserve.
Today I remind myself that the qualifying prefix “ex” exists for a reason. If people were meant to stay in our lives we would never assign them such an introduction. I acknowledge that I may always hold space in my heart for this man and that my love for him may never completely die, but I also seek to accept this for exactly what it is. In a coherent and sensible universe, love does not translate to action. It is acceptable to have love for someone and do absolutely nothing about it. When people are not meant for us we should not hand them the privilege of existing in our worlds.
We must trust that our hearts, our souls, our secrets, our quirks and our genitals are precious resources. We must guard our spoils and only share our uniqueness with the people who value and cherish us and who in return give us the most meaningful pieces of themselves.
I am here to forgive myself for my recent relapse. My name is The Banshee and I am a love addict but I will not fuck my ex-boyfriend again.