I have been feeling the need to write but have struggled how to put this into words.
I’ve been working through all of my emotions and meltdowns by tapping into my other creative outlets instead.
I’ve been painting, organizing, and decorating my house.
With the world falling apart over Covid-19, it allowed me more time to work on things that I had been avoiding and projects left half done.
It has helped me work through confusion and come to some profound conclusions.
I have reconnected with someone from my past.
Someone that knew me before Frank.
Someone that loved me before Frank.
I had gone out to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day and while playing on Snapchat. His name popped up as a possible connection and as I was decribing who he was to a friend I was with, my finger accidentally hit the Add button.
I freaked out.
Literally screaming “Noooooo!!!” in a crowded bar.
You see, the relationship this person and I had was volatile.
Our highs skyrocketed us into the heavens and our lows were the depths of hell.
We were so young when we tried to figure out how to love each other. He was just 18 and I was 20.
We dated for about 4 years before I finally had enough and didn’t want to try anymore.
We both couldn’t stay faithful and ended up hurting each other over and over again.
We would go on breaks and kept getting back together cause we just couldn’t stand being apart.
He was the last one I dated before Franco and I decided to be together.
Franco literally held me as I wept over my broken heart from this man.
I had looked him up in the past, like everyone does with ex’s and found out he had married and become a father.
I never tried to reconnect with him. I had done that with a previous ex and realized how not smart it was.
So after I accidentally added him, I tried telling myself that maybe he didn’t use Snapchat often or he will see me and decide to say no to the Add.
Granted, I was several beers and Irish car bombs down at this point. I usually only have two beers max but had gone out with the intention to get “Shammered”.
Yet 30 seconds later, he added me back.
At that point, I wrestled with my brain for awhile. Deciding if I wanted to send a “hey stranger, how are you text.”
My brain went through a Dr. Strange moment, playing out many different scenarios. For example:
1. He is still happily married. He honestly wants to talk and catch up. Having not given us a second thought after we broke up.
2. He is unhappily married. He has wondered about me and felt like I did, that we never really had a chance to say what needed to be said. If he had regrets about his actions and held any grudges over mine.
Plus many, many more….
Since I was full of liquid courage, I took the leap and text him first.
Lighthearted and friendly.
Everything was fine until the point where I had to decide if I was going to tell him about Frank or not.
It never goes well for me. It usually makes things very awkward and all conversations stop cause people just don’t know what to say.
Well the opposite happened. It also stopped being light hearted and casual after that.
We proceeded to text nonstop for the next 6 hours.
Both of us far drunker than advisable and i think because of that, we let down all our walls.
I had forgotten how much of a poet he was and how much he made me one.
Turns out that he is getting a divorce, has a daughter that he adores and has held a candle for me….ever since we broke up.
We have talked every single day since then and we have gotten to know each other as adults.
I tried to put up every wall and block that I could but he reached in and grabbed my heart. Cradling it, he has breathed life and love into it.
My heart and my head were at war.
My heart wanted to grab his hand and jump off the cliff, not caring what was below, because we would be together.
My head kept holding me back. Reminding me of the past pain, of my current pain and the struggles that long distance relationships go through.
Then he told me that I didn’t have to choose between loving Frank and loving him. He told me to keep them both in my heart since they both loved me.
He gave me space to talk about Frank and what he meant to me.
And that was it. My head agreed with my heart and we ran full sprint off the edge.
Hand in hand.
He speaks a different love language than Franco did. He is artistic and a poet.
He shows me love in entirely different ways.
Ways that I didn’t know I missed.
For awhile, it made me feel terrible. It made me feel like the love Franco gave me was lacking and then I realized something.
They love two different people.
Who I was with Franco is not who I ever was or am with this new man.
Franco loved me exactly how I needed my “Side A” needed to be loved.
This man loves my “Side B.”
One is not better than the other and I can’t fault either of them for not being able to love both sides of me.
With the travel restrictions in place, we haven’t met in person yet and I worry about that.
I’m afraid that the physical side won’t match our emotional connection. It was never a problem in the past but that was almost 17 years ago.
I’m also worried that the once I am able to hold him, I won’t want to let him go.
I am working my plan and I can’t leave for at least 1.5 years.
In the grand scheme of things, that isn’t a lot of time but it makes life messy.
He makes me crave a life that I didn’t think I deserved or was possible.
Loving him has helped heal more of my heart.
I still struggle almost daily with missing Franco but this man just waits patiently for my melt downs to be over and for me to come back to him.
Yesterday, we were video chatting and I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I kept apologizing and telling him how I knew it was hard to love me.
He brought the camera close to him and whispered that loving me wasn’t hard and I lost it. Just covered my face, laid the phone on the bed and sobbed.
He just said “take your time, I’ll be here when you are ready. I’m not going anywhere.”
It’s very strange that Franco helped me heal from losing that man. Now this same man is helping me heal from losing Franco.
Just a strange circle of love, loss and healing.
I won’t ever be fully healed from losing Franco but that not stopping me from moving forward, not moving on. I’m taking the love we shared, carrying it with me forever.
It doesn’t matter if this man and I don’t work out in the end.
What matters is that I’m not putting conditions on myself in order to receive love.
Maybe it only lasts 5 weeks, 5 months, 5 years, maybe the rest of my life.
What matters most is telling myself every day that I deserve love, I deserve happiness and I deserve to share that with the world.