Shot by Memories

“Memories are worse than bullets. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

Just when I feel like I am strong, just when I feel like I am over it, over him, my mind is assaulted with memories. Rapid fire visuals of moments spent with him scroll through my brain and there is no switch for me to turn off this automatic reel of our relationship that continuously plays and plays. I close my eyes and try to think of pleasant thoughts, of a recent sunrise or sunset, of a show that made me laugh, or even a chore that I have to accomplish. I try to think of anything so that I may forget, but the harder I try to escape, the memories of him shoot at me more quickly, piercing me in my chest and in my heart.

Photo Credit: Freepik

The intrusive thoughts are hard to evade, and once I am hit, it deploys itself all over my body. Memories are like poison, flowing through my bloodstream, infecting every part of me. I hold myself and brace my stomach, as though I am preparing to be kicked in my abdomen. I lick my lips and taste the bitterness of how our relationship ended. I become thirsty and drink water, but it is never enough to drown out my longing for what could have been, how it should have been. I swim in my thoughts instead and though not enough to drown, it is just enough that I am left gasping for air to fill my lungs.

The memories burn. As I replay past times in my head, my skin feels like it is on fire, but I am shivering. I hate myself for pining for someone who did not exist. I long for the version of him that I had hoped he would become, not the person who he really was.

Heart Restructuring

“The voice of Love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.” ~ P.G. Wodehouse, Very Good, Jeeves!
It is Saturday, the 20th of February, in the year 2021.  It has been three-hundred and forty-two (342) days since the quarantine/pandemic started for me.  It has been nearly one year.
 
All in all, the pandemic has been good to and for me.  I feel horribly writing this, as I know so many people have suffered unimaginable losses, but aside from the long periods of sheltering in place and the limited social and physical interactions with society and people, overall I have done really well the last eleven months.  
 
Financially, I made more money last year than I have ever made in my life.  Corporate restructuring is my line of work, and as you can imagine, with the fall of the economy as a result of the pandemic and the shutting of businesses, I was busy, and this is stating it mildly.
 
Physically, I am in the best health and shape than I have been in years.  I started a fitness regime last year to stave off boredom, and I stuck through it this entire time.  The hard work has paid off.
In the physical relationship department, I also flourished.  A friend had introduced me to one of her clients, a Nordic pilot (“NP“) twenty years my junior.  He and I got on in September, and until now, we enjoy an easy, no-strings attached friendship.  With the massive age difference, we both knew that this “thing”would never develop into anything further, but we enjoy each other’s company whenever he is in town.  I genuinely like him as a person, and hope that even when the flames die, we will still be friends.
 
In October, I connected with a male friend who I met in 2014.  We were both in relationships when we first met, but we since have both broken up with our respective partners.  We decided to meet up one afternoon in October.  The sexual tension had been building up the last six years, and on that afternoon, we finally succumbed to it.  The reality was even better than the fantasy we both had created in our imaginations, and my only regret now is that we did not explore this opportunity earlier.  His touch is always so gentle, yet wanting, and oftentimes I find myself daydreaming about our interactions, replaying them in my mind over and over again.
 
He is a fantastic man overall – a loving son to his parents, a kind and caring brother to his sister, and a hero to the city as a firefighter (“FF“), and if the situation were only different, I really could see myself with him.
 
However, much like NP, he is much younger than I am.  Thirteen years younger, to be exact.  Better than twenty, but still too much.
 
And that’s where my good fortune ends.  
 
I realized that I was catching feelings for FF when one night in January, NP called to say he was in town and asked if I wanted to meet up.  I told him that I was feeling under the weather and said that I would catch him the next time he was back in town.  I sensed his disappointment, but I figured it was better than if he were to come over just to feel that my heart was not into it.
 
The truth was, I could not stop thinking about FF, and I felt guilty as though I were cheating on him with NP, even though he and I had not established any kind of commitment.  Even more so, I had broken my own heart when I had told FF early on that I was only looking for a FWB situation.  I am not sure why I told him that, but I can only imagine that it was for my own self-preservation.  Better for me to setup the hurt myself, than to be hurt by him in the likely event that once he bores of me, he would break it off with me and say “you’re just too old for me” or something to that effect.
 
I just don’t think my heart can withstand another breaking.
 
Matters of the heart are where I have never been successful.  Ever.  All other parts of my life may be flourishing and prosperous, but my heart has always been bankrupted.
 
I am an expert in corporate restructuring – I only wish I knew how to restructure my heart to make myself believe in love again.