The part that’s not so great about being autistic is not being able to manage practical things when you’re emotionally overloaded. My dad told me that he wasn’t coming (postponed, not canceled), Supergrover told me that she was mad that I compared her to The War Daniel, and Jack (who is also a dog) loves to trash out my bathroom when it’s that time of the month. It was special all the way around, and I’d had as much fun as I could take. I went to bed very, very early in hopes of starting this morning fresh.
The reason I folded into myself is that Supergrover once again contacted me to tell me everything I got wrong in my blog according to her, as if she has any validity in my life at all. She does, but it’s as a memory, a ghost who smokes in the back of my head. Why would I be so cold and callous? I’m not. She told me she had lost the ability to be a decent friend and to give back. I thought, “enough,” and I moved on. This is someone to whom I gave my whole self. I have dealt with every feeling on earth regarding our relationship. You can tell by reading this blog that I have drug myself kicking and screaming away from her, it’s absolutely destroying me and apparently, it’s not going the way she wanted it, either…… Because the way she reads all of this is “giving real estate to someone you so clearly loathe.” No, I’m grieving the fact that when you want to let loose with your friends, I’m not one of them. She doesn’t get to dump me and tell me how to get over it, too. We were never a couple, but it’s the best explanation for how I feel right now. You don’t count on the people who broke your heart to fix it.
I told her that I was happier without her in my life, because I am. I am happy without the up and down, will they or won’t they, “we were on a BREAK” kind of love. It was toxic and fucked up and anything I did to try and make it healthy was instantly suspicious. When I told her that I was happier without her, her tone instantly changed to “martyr.” She reminded me so much of my mother that I rolled my eyes. I moved on, I made new friends, all at her request. You can only kick a dog so many times.
She e-mailed me her thoughts on a few of my blog entries last week. I didn’t get them, because I’d forgotten that I’d set her e-mails to go to Spam on one particular account, but not all of them. So, she doesn’t get a response to her e-mails talking about what a childish, lazy, cruel writer I am and makes a point to send an e-mail to a different account to ask me if I got them. Why I wouldn’t want to read them is anyone’s guess………….. Especially when she came to find out that she’s just as lazy, childish, and cruel as I am and maybe she shouldn’t have just popped off an e-mail without thinking things through.
It was stirring up shit just for the fun of it, and I told her that. And in fact, she said that I devalued our relationship by lumping her in with Daniel. It was very clear to me that I wanted to marry the same type person twice, and it wasn’t bringing her down. Whatever she thought was “bringing her down” about that situation was self-inflicted, because it’s an idea she has about Daniel or about me, both of which live in her head and not mine. Autism is all about pattern recognition. I recognize PTSD behaviors in all three of us. I said, “if you can’t read Daniel’s tone and not see a compilation of your own greatest hits, you need to go back and reread.” The way they get angry is eerily similar, and it makes me feel the same type of fear.
It was really simple to me in the end. What relationship? How am I devaluing something you’ve said you’ve phoned in for years? Anything she liked about our relationship is probably a fantasy I created in my head to deal with the reality. I finally called her out on playing games with me, because I’ve finally had enough time apart from her to see it for what it is. Her game is that everyone else is playing games except her. Only she has a valid point. To her credit, she saw that she was doing it, too, and apologized. Whether that turns into a healthy pattern moving forwards or not talking to me anymore out of shame is on her. Her uploaded consciousness lives in me. I don’t need new interactions with her. My memories are precious and I’m not interested in watching her tear down her own legacy. I want her to add to it or leave it the fuck alone. What I realized a long time ago is that neither one of us are very good at love, but we have a lot of it. I am not “dedicating real estate to someone I clearly loathe,” it’s a wheel with many spokes and I’m writing about two 3D characters that I desperately love…… Both of whom are me, in a way, because never meeting Supergrover in person has never individuated her from me. Because I’ve never stood in front of her, she’s always lived inside me. Her words are given the entire echo chamber in my chest. I hear everything she says closer than my own heartbeat.
She doesn’t want that from me, and can’t stay away from me, either. I don’t want all of her drama, and was still excited to hear from her until I realized it was “All Shit on Leslie Day.” I want her, the real her, for everything she’s worth. But not if it means that I never have a valid point ever again. She’s worth a lot, but not that.
Stories That Are All True 