I dated a ghost for too long.
Oddly enough, he made me feel alive with his dead regurgitated words that he must have salvaged from from graveyards no one visits any more. I wasn't quite ever able to be on the same plane as him, we were often times in the same room but...he was elsewhere, worried about not being good enough, a veil grew between us inspired by his fear of not only the future but of the now.
"I know you don't think I love you, but I do Jenn, I do", said through tears with a pained cracked voice.
But, I couldn't feel it.
Because the actions didn't line up with the words.
On the foolish 4th chance I gave him, a date where he planned it- all I had to do was show up, he left me pounding on his apartment door in the frigid winter air, chilled to the bone because he wouldn't answer, again. I should have known history was bound to repeat itself. But I'm a fool who likes to relapse on past lovers because of the familiarity...because at least I know what kind of pain to expect.
He had told me countless times that he wasn't good enough for me. Showed me too. I refused to accept that because I believed he, like everyone else, is worthy of love. But, heh, maybe not my love.
Time to say goodbye to the ghosting ghost.
He is great at ghosting. Things could be going seemingly swell then in the next instant they weren't. I wouldn't really know though because he would vanish. All the nights holding hands, cuddling, sharing intimate thoughts and ideas meant nothing when his anxiety flared up and he retreated leaving me in the cold for weeks at a time. Wouldn't answer phone calls, texts, messages....wouldn't show up to preplanned dates or events. Just disappeared like he never existed. Naturally, I understood, and gave more chances because of a forgiving heart and...because I have been there.
I couldn't deal with being ghosted time and time again. I couldn't trust if I needed to speak with him that he would even pick up, text back or acknowledge I existed. I was a ghost to him in a way too, he didn't treat me as if I was alive and had feelings.
But, he was right. He wasn't good enough for me.
And, not because of the debilitating anxiety and other issues he needed to work through but because he had no desire to work through his issues. I don't doubt he loved me, I just don't think he knew how to let love be actions rather than empty words. He was and is content with his life and without me in it.
I was not worth his effort.
Please, take note-this not a 'poor me' piece or a shaming piece on someone I once loved. On someone I still love. It is an aberration in love. An unusual course I traveled too long, I must admit.
My sweet ghost couldn't and wouldn't see his worth. And, I felt insistent that I had to be the one to show him. The more I loved him harder and expounded on why he was lovable, his kindness, his nerdiness, his intelligence...the more he withdrew. It took a few stinging reality checks for me to accept you cannot show the dead how it feels to be alive.
And, I am too alive to try to love the concept of anyone anymore.
Concepts and promises hold no weight and I need the weight of a lover to pin me down, showing me I am worthy of their efforts.
I am not perfect, I will never be perfect. I need no one. But, when I love I want you, not need, but want. I like to feel loved and not second guess my role in your life. When I'm comfortable with you, I will unabashedly laugh and get excited about *pretty much* everything. You will get annoyed that I see almost anything and everyone for the miracle they are. I will push you away if I feel too happy, I try not to, but I will warn you first. I will buy you stupid little trinkets that make me think of you, write you annoying cards, say sorry way too much, dance in the kitchen in my underwear to the song that's stuck in my head while making you dinner, and ask for reassurance through it all. And, I'm working on me. This me will change because I'm alive and intend to live as much as possible while I'm on this earth...and we all know that requires evolving.
I have been called many things but the messiah is not and nor will it ever be one, because I am not. I have no ability to resurrect a soul and refuse to spend my energy on dead things any longer.
It is time for me to let my ghost go free. He has no allegiance to these bones of mine and my bones are achy from trying to hold him close.
Be free ghost, I pray you never haunt anyone ever again. I love you and hope you know when you're ready....your body is waiting for you to step back into it and live.