This time next week I’ll be in my second favorite city – Chicago. This has me feeling very excited…like I seriously cannot wait to board that plane. Every time I’ve started a new job I’ve been a little nervous, but this time? I simply cannot wait. I have an infinite amount of confidence in my ability to excel at this position and am so excited at the possibilities that lie ahead of me.
And yet – really? Chicago? For my first trip? This time of the year? Why does the universe fuck with me so?
Sure, I love Chicago. Adore it. I’d move there if snow and cold didn’t exist in the winter months.
But what most people don’t know is that 4 years ago – in October of 2007 – I was positioned to move to Chicago. And it wasn’t just an idea in my head…it was my reality.
In 2007 I created a company. A brilliant idea that was sold to a major company in 2007. My idea? My brainchild? It was made into a reality by The Heartbreaker – who is now the CEO of the company I created. After we broke up in February 2007 he ran with my idea, kicked me out and now runs this company with the backing of…yes, a major player in the employment industry. In essence he stole my idea and made it work for him. Ever tr salesman, he sold it, won it and kicked me out. He fucked me over.
And this time 4 years ago he agreed with me that I should have a leadership position in said company. At least that was what he told me as he flew me to Chicago 3 of 4 weeks in October, took me to the corporate office and introduced me to his co-workers as the person he was bringing on to help run the company. The company that was MY idea. The company I helped create.
I fell in love with Chicago. Perhaps it was partially due to the fact that I was wined and dined while I was there – who doesn’t love that?! I was in my Ex’s 34th floor condo downtown having amazing sex and being lead to believe I was about to have the opportunity of a lifetime…to be part of something I’d helped create. I’d envisioned!
In the end the motherfucker screwed me again and that’s my fault. I never should have trusted a liar a second time, but I truly believed he wanted to do right by me after all he’d done…after all he’d taken from me.
Alas, I was wrong. My belief in the greater good in people shattered. Jut as he’d shattered my trust of men forever more.
Now…I’m going back. And while I love that I’m going to a place I adore I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about the fact that he is there. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t freak me out thinking that I could run into him in a city of millions because since our traumatic breakup I’ve seen him in the most random of places…when I’ve least expected it and when he certainly shouldn’t be there. I mean – he lives in Chicago! Why the hell would he be in random places I am in…in Atlanta?!
Still to this day I feel hatred for him. There was a time when I tried to forgive and what it really was – in hindsight – was me loving him more.
When I met him I was carefree, trusting, open an honest. He killed all of those things. Now? I’m scared, semi-bitter, jaded and untrusting. Because if anyone in the world could make you believe he was great…it was my Heartbreaker. He was the master manipulator. He fooled me, my friends, mt family. He even fooled Ex-Husband, who was an original partner in our business plan and ended up voluntarily leaving after he saw how badly The Heartbreaker fucked me over.
He destroyed all of my innocence.
I let him. I had the utmost trust in him and he killed all that was kind an giving and open inside of me.
So while I’m excited to visit a city I totally adore as part of my first adventure on this new journey, at the same time I’m nervous not about how well I will do at the job, but about how I know I will be looking over my shoulder at every turn. Every corner. Every street I walk down. I’ll be looking for him. Not because I want to see him, but because I sooo don’t want to see him an yet he always appears. Because I know he enjoys fucking with my head so much that he will surely try to find me and just be there.
Because don’t we all havethat one person we look back at who fucked us up so hard yet we still feel nostalgic about? The passion. The feeling that he was “The One” even though everything we know post-relationship totally screams FUCK NO!!!
I let go of this situation in September 2008 when I was supposed to travel back to Chicago to see him. A few days before I was to leave on my scheduled flight The Canadian and my sis-in-law had a come to Jesiis meeting with me. When I returned to Atlanta two days later I called and – through real tears – told him I couldn’t come and that we could never speak again. No emails. No texts. No calls. And I wouldn’t be making that flight to Chucago in two days. It was one of the hardest things I ever did.
But……it was the last time we spoke. I stayed true to it. I refused all texts. I didn’t answer calls. And 3 months later, while I was thankfully home with my family, he showed up at my Starbucks with a birthday gift and card for me. Bastard. That card stayed in my Jeep…on the console…until the day two months ago when I sold the jeep and threw that card in the trash.
My baby Buddy? My sweet, precious pup I loved so much? A gift from Rhe Heattbreaker. I can’t tell you how many times while Buds and I were chilling on the couch in my new life that I looked at my sweet baby dog and said “I hate your daddy. He fucked me up.” I can’t tell you how many times Buds tried to lick away the tears The Heartbreaker left me with.
Now, four years later, I haven’t thought about Rhe Heartbreaker in any kind of nostalgic way in years. I pulled myself out. I got over him. I stopped wishing he’d realize he loved me as I did him.
But still – four years later – I’m jaded by men. I’m scared. I don’t believe much of anything and I don’t trust. I’m not sweet. I’m sarcastic and hard-seeming. I’m so fucking scared to be hurt like the again.
So to be going back? Yeah, it raises emotions in my head that haven’t been here in years. Literally.
But not because I still love him – I don’t. Because I can’t stand how much he shaped my life and I wish he never had.
I’ll get through it. I’m not reduced to tears, dwelling on it or even dreading it. But I will look at everyone’s face and try to find him in it while I’m there. Not because I want to, but because I honestly think he’ll always be just around the corner waiting to fuck me up again.
I’m glad I no longer long for a love I thought was real, but in actuality was the biggest bullshit I’ve ever experienced. But when you truly love – with all your heart and without any reservations – it becomes something you want again. Even when you become too scared to submit to love like that again.
Of course, in hindsight I see the problems, the red flags. In hindsight I don’t, however, see the love of my life fucking another woman in my house and in my car. But that’s neither here nor there. All men are not My Heartbreaker. All men are not evil. All men aren’t trying to break me. I get that and while I’d never fall for that kind of bullshit again (I hope) I do think he ruined me from being able to let go and trust and truly believe true love can exist.
And so next week I start yet another new chapter. One I’ve wanted and worked hard to get to. I’m excited. And at nearly 35 years old I’m also a little scared. I’ll get over it – I promise! But it still weighs on me slightly.
Universe? If you’re listening? Please don’t let me run into My Heartbreaker. I want peace.
Sent from my iPhone