I hate it when Bear asks me questions like that, and he always catches me off guard when asking them too. It’s like he knows. He waits until I’m comfortable and safe and then BOOM. Awkward question time. I’m too lazy and comfortable to think of something off-the-cuff, and out comes the truth. I’m no good at lying. I never have been.
“I genuinely don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know how to answer that question.”
Honesty is the best policy, right? Nope, probably not in this particular situation. The one thing it is not cool to say when your new boyfriend asks you if your old boyfriend still has a hold over you is ‘yes’.
But he does, doesn’t he? Brown Eyes, I mean, having that hold over me. I’ve been thinking that maybe Bear appeared way too soon after Brown Eyes, but it’s not like I can actually say that to him. Plus, I wouldn’t want to. I’m trying to play this whole situation down in my head, but I’m not doing a very good job of it.
“So … what are you worried about then?”
What am I worried about? I need to make sense of this – of why Brown Eyes is still in the picture even when he’s not. Because he’s really not. I don’t want him back. I don’t miss him. Okay, sometimes I do, but only when I remember something that makes me laugh that we did together, and for a split second I forget how much that man hurt me in such a short space of time.
I’m worried about him popping up. I worry that he’s reading my blog, or peeking at my Instagram. I worry that one day Bear and I are going to bump into him walking through town, or that he’ll bizarrely be on the same train that I’m on. I worry that BE will get in contact with Bear. Or worse than get, get in contact with me. I worry that he’ll come to my house and ask me to give him another chance. Because that would worry me. Right now I know he’s bad news. But if he were right there in front of me … I’d still know, but would I care? That’s what I worry about.
I hate that man. I hate that man for the vulgar and disgusting things he said to me, and because of all the things I couldn’t say after he’d been removed from my life for fear of him reading it all. I hate that I couldn’t talk about him because I didn’t want to let myself talk about him. I didn’t want to give him any more words on my blog when, in reality, I wasn’t done talking about him at all. And I hate him for making me feel guilty about dating Bear, as though I’d somehow moved on too soon. I don’t feel guilty about dating Bear. I’m falling hopelessly in love with that man, little bit by little bit, but I worry that I’ve caused my own problems by getting involved with someone else again so soon.
I worry that Brown Eyes will never let me go. That somehow I’ll always be the super villain queen to his super villain king. The Harley to his Joker. That he’ll keep on getting the tattoos he said he wanted to get for me.
I worry that Bear will realise this and give up on me. I also worry that Bear will snap. As I’ve said, BE keeps weirdly popping up in the strangest of places, and I know it’s pissing him off. He has schizophrenia. I don’t know what that means … with me, I mean. We haven’t really had anything that’s seriously tested our relationship yet, and I don’t know if I’m ready to find out what’ll happen. I worry that he’ll hunt BE down, and hurt him too. In fact, scrap that. I don’t think he’d do that. I told him I wouldn’t be around if he did. But I worry that he’ll sink into alcohol again. He hasn’t had a drink for a while now. I wouldn’t want him to slip. He’s doing such a great job.
I worry that this will be too much for Bear and his fragile mental state, or that I’ve been too honest and once again, created my own problems. Maybe I made a bigger deal about Brown Eyes than needed to be made?
But he is a big deal.
He’s still around. And today, when I foolishly had another little look on his Instagram page to see if he’d posted anything else, I was once again reminded of that fact. He’s not going away. He’s still posting super villain king and queen stuff that is very clearly directed at me. He’s missing me. I’m the one who needs to put him back together again. He’s not going to give up.
I know Bear’s seen it because he’s acting weird. But he can’t tell me that he’s seen it because we promised each other we wouldn’t look any longer. If we didn’t make a big deal about it, BE would just give up and go away … not that it’s worked up until this point. But I’m pretty sure he knows I’ve seen it, despite me promising not to look. I’m acting weird. By forcing myself to act normally, I’m acting even weirder.
I need to exorcise this ghost, this demon that is starting to destroy my new relationship. And before you all suggest blocking and deleting, I’ve already done all of that. And more. I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that man cannot contact me, and still he’s squirming his way into my life. And, as much as I hate to admit it, there are cracks in my armour and he’s starting to seep through. I’m not stupid, but I do have a heart. And at one point, I thought I loved him. Maybe I did. Perhaps I still do?
It’s only going to be a matter of time before he gets in touch … somehow. This is how it goes – how it went each time before. It starts with the Instagram posts – the I’m sorry’s and the I love you’s. And then it’ll be texts and calls, but he’ll know he’s blocked because he won’t be able to get through. He’s probably already tried the Instagram messages, but just like last time he was blocked, I didn’t get them / haven’t been getting them. I’m glad about that. And then, as a last resort, I would imagine he’ll try to send an email. It’ll be filled with beautiful words. Beautiful words that worked to win me around each time before.
I’m not worried about being won over this time. I know it won’t work. I just wish I felt stronger than I did about him. It’s not just me fighting this battle now though. I’ve got Bear as backup. Not that I need backup, but it’s always easier to say no (and mean it) when you’ve got someone else to think about. If it was just me, I’m not sure I would have as much strength.
I’m really hoping he stays away. He’s already causing cracks. I’m not ready to face him yet, to read whatever words he has to say. My heart isn’t ready. Sometimes shutting out every memory you ever had, every moment you ever shared, everything you ever knew about him, is the only way to make it through.
I’m just hoping he doesn’t try to open that door. God, please don’t try to open that door.