For some reason over the past week or so my urge to text/call/e-mail Andy has been more overwhelming than usual. I'm not sure why this is, but it's been very tough to deal with. I would think that after all this time I'd be LESS interested in contacting him, and yet for whatever reason, ALL I WANT most days is to communicate with him in some way and let him know what an asshole he is.
I know that to some degree it's because I want to incite a response. I want him to contact ME and that's never going to happen unless I give him a reason. Which right there is a good enough reason NOT to do it. Then again, a large part of it also is that I want him to apologize again. Maybe a thousand-and-one more times, and then a thousand-and-one more.
People always say "don't give him the satisfaction." That's such an interesting bit of advice to me. I don't think for a second that he'd feel any self-satisfaction at knowing how deeply he hurt me. I know him well enough to know that he'd feel guilty, and that's right where I want him. I want him feeling BAD. I don't want him just going on about his business, all "tra-la-la" with his new girlfriend. I want to know just WHAT he gained in the past year by devastating me? How has that decision improved his life? Because I suspect it actually hasn't. And I feel like reminding him of it might really hurt him, and THAT is something I want more than I want to breathe.
I know it's stupid. I know it's pointless. But down in the dark, wounded place in my heart that still has me crying myself to sleep at night, I want it. I WANT IT.
I came really close. About a week ago I had the text on my screen... something to the effect that he was the biggest asshole that ever lived and I hoped his life was as miserable as he deserved. I had his phone number entered and all I had to do was push "send." I don't know why I was able to keep myself from doing it. I was an hysterical mess and all I wanted in that moment was to lash out at him for being the cause of it all. I didn't even delete it. I simply closed my phone and threw it in my purse, figuring that if the universe wanted him to know how I felt the phone would knock against something in my purse and the "send" button would be pushed without my having to actually do it.
That didn't happen. I checked the phone a few minutes later and the text had just disappeared. It wasn't in my Outbox, so I knew it hadn't gone anywhere. Probably just as well, but then again...
I'm typing right now because I am trying to keep from sending him the e-mail that my soul desperately wants to send. I keep stopping momentarily as the sobs overtake me... I don't understand any of it. In a year I have not come to any understanding or felt it "happened for a reason" or was good or right. I cry alone, I suffer alone, because no one wants to hear about it. No one wants to know about it. I should be over it. He didn't deserve me. Blah, blah, blah.
I still want him back.