one fewer public playlist~

not sure why this impacts me as much as it does, but it does

the body remembers. was just about to delete this app and then I saw the last time I was on was a month ago. doing much better now, but wow. talk about progress.

wow it had been a while since I’ve been on this and seeing my thoughts is particularly painful to reflect on. like holy fuck I’ve been in some dark places.

I finally know why this week was particularly hard (besides seeing them out again): A birthday and four months all in one week!

“Everybody wish **** a happy birthday!!”
Something he couldn’t be bothered to do for me.

Maybe he actually gifted her something and got her a card on time.

In any case, truly a shame and a deeply upsetting memory.

Like the gall.

Because we went back home and he was distant the entire time. Because it was easier to withdraw than seek to reconnect.

And that was the beginning of me knowing he stopped caring for me because he could not care less about my grief and sense of disconnection.

He was too busy thinking about someone else and focusing on the fact that he could get his needs fulfilled elsewhere.

Waiting at the stadium throws me back to the last time I was here when my ex was late because he’d gone to a work happy hour (where his affair partner was) and when he arrived didn’t even apologize for his lateness, and was upset that I was upset.

Nine days since the last intrusive thought, and thankfully was able to shelve it pretty quickly. That said it’s still angering that I’m still dealing with these damn intrusive thoughts about them fucking.

Reading the word “honey bun” makes me physically sick.

Also every time I pass this intersection I recall him meandering to “meet me” when he was really calling her at 3 fucking am. What a fucking conniving piece of shit.

After almost 7 days, I had a panic attack thinking of them fucking. I’m having a really hard time finding self compassion at the fact that my brain still has intrusive thoughts. I’m so exhausted of all of this bullshit.

Another set of nightmares 🥰

But perhaps I should have seen this as inevitable that one day he would stop seeing me as rad and therefore stop loving me, because feelings are fleeting.

I felt him stop seeing me as his object of adoration and with that his willingness to be kind and loving toward me left. He shifted his affection and interest toward someone else and soon enough he found her as “rad.”

Now this card is painful because there was a point until… maybe April, May of that year that he found me rad still, until he didn’t anymore. He then started seeing his affair partner as rad. As fun. As interesting. As funny. As kind. As someone he wanted to be around. And I felt that transition.

Looking for a book, I came across cards from the last year and one was particularly painful to reread, from when my ex went to Montreal (with the passport I helped him get, something he couldn’t bring himself to do for me) and he wrote to me that 1) I was pretty rad and 2) that he loved me very much

One day I’ll make a list of every way that experiencing infidelity has resulted in a variation of PTSD. From hyper vigilance, to ongoing rumination, insomnia and dissociation—and that’s just the beginning. It’s a whole plethora of goodies!! Thank you, E! 🫶🏼

You ever haunted by obsessive thoughts of the last time you were in a space, which was with your ex who was too preoccupied with making sure his (emotional) affair partner wasn’t too drunk and made it home okay? No? Just me? Okiedokie. Yeah it fucking blows and requires a lot of grounding.

Love being unable to sleep because they continue to plague my dreams ☺️

Anyway, yet another moment of grief amidst my everyday life. I ache for the day I am no longer reminded of him and everything concomitant with our shared existence.

…and feel nothing but grief at the fact that a) I did not get one last chance to take it all in, b) she probably does that now, and c) all I have are tainted memories of the view / his bedroom.

Yet somehow I long to return to it: the smells, the sights, and the implicit safety of presumed love.

It’s the mid-sized reminders of him that always cause a lump in my throat and throw me off for the day.

E.g., I’m at the doctor roughly nine blocks directly north of his apt and I can see the spires of the church across his bedroom. I reminisce on opening the shades each morning…

It sincerely baffles me how quickly I fluctuate between “I’m absolutely going to crush this and move on” and “fuck, I am so sad and I miss him so much.” Like damn, what’s one to do to not think about their ex anymore :(

Seeing the person across from me text their presumed SO (or maybe an affair partner!) “te amo muchisimo” as we taxi off the gate is gutting in a way I didn’t anticipate.

And this is the journey of grief, a repeated reminder of the loss experienced. Que sera, sera.

It’s funny that I long for my ex when I travel, fantasizing of him picking me up / dropping me off at the airport, but can count on two fingers the times he dropped me off / picked me up in the previous year of travel. He had a habit of somehow being asleep / unavailable when I needed him.

And now I get to make new memories here and everywhere else I took him. Cheers to the joys of new neural pathways.

Last time I flew through this airport I had returned to overfunctioning with my ex (literally handled everything) even though two days prior he’d said it wasn’t going to be that way. Perhaps that’s why he chose to cheat on me. Because he knew he couldn’t live up to what he said he’d do for me / us.

Not me still having panic attacks at the intrusive thought of them fucking. What a fucking shitty shitty situation. I just want this all to end.

I really have tried hard to move on, too. But fuck. Anyway, another day, another emotional outburst of longing.

Such a painful experience to long something that you’ll never get back. To miss and love someone who doesn’t love you or want you back in that capacity. To dream and fantasize about a person long gone. To actively yearn and crave for every nook and crevice of a person no longer yours. Fucking hell.