Yesterday was a bad day that started with promise. I didn't have to work so I slept in and had a leisurely morning cuddling with my roommate's dogs, reading the news online and stalking people on facebook, sipping coffee. I went to a beautiful Yoga Wall class with a friend, I bought a new summer dress on sale, and then I did what I've been dreading for months...I went back to a house I still own with a man I thought I'd love forever to pick up my wedding dress and other items that aren't easy to see or handle, a visit I'd been putting off.
For reasons I do not comprehend, he doesn't like me to go to the house when he's not there. While I would much prefer to go to the house when it's empty, I choose to respect his wishes. It was his birthday yesterday, but it was also seemingly the only day this week that worked for him, so I reluctantly agreed to meet him. This time the house was nearly empty, as he's in the process of moving as well. Where he's going...I don't know. When I ask, he evades direct answers. He had most of my stuff packed in a box for me, waiting by the door. He actually helped me load my car this time and while it was nice that he wasn't abrasive or cruel, it was surprising to me that he didn't seem to have any emotional response at all. I'll admit, I was torn up. I held it together while I loaded my wedding album, dress, and other sentimental items into my car, but I was sobbing before I drove out of the neighborhood. I went home to an empty apartment (graduation day! my teacher roommate was otherwise occupied) and tried to figure out what would become of the contents of my car.
I sobbed for hours. I tried to remember all the ways he'd hurt me over the years, all the stupid fights, all the reasons we weren't good together...it made me cry harder. When I finally ran out of tears, my eyes were not just bloodshot; the whites were absolutely red and my irises looked unnaturally green.
I opened a beer, but what I had in the fridge was Alaskan Amber which comes loaded with memories, both good and bad. I thought about how and why I'd left him--twice--that second summer in Alaska. I thought about how I left for Korea soon after we reconciled and didn't know if we'd still be together when I came back, but was somehow hopeful that a year apart would provide clarity for both of us and direction for our future, together or apart. I rememer his first visit and how great it was to see him after months apart. He brought me earrings, a gift from his mother, in a small jewelry box that I thought might be something else. I remember I was disappointed when it wasn't. I was hurt when months later he called to tell me he didn't want to come back to Korea for second visit as planned. He wanted to go somewhere he'd never been instead, somewhere that would cost less money and take up less air travel time. In the end he came back to Korea, but knowing that I wasn't a priority after all we'd been through stung.
At this point, the tears returned and I tried to stop thinking about him, about the rollercoaster relationship that lead me to both great adventures and heart wrenching pain, sometimes simultaneously. Jamie helped shape who I am as a person, and being with him taught me a lot about myself. I wanted to believe that the gentle, intelligent, caring man I saw beneath his sarcastic, selfish exterior was the predominant one. I wanted the happily-ever-after we're taught as little girls to seek. I thought when he proposed that he wanted a marriage and kids and compromise and everything that husband-and-wife means. I was wrong, but he was also wrong to mislead me.
