It’s incredibly refreshing to have memories pop in my head and not be left labored breath by them or choking or in pain. For an absurdly long stretch of time snapshots of my ex-girlfriend would keep me awake at night and now that they don’t, now that I’m able to look at memories outside of the four year bubble I was in, I can focus on other things. Take the first time we had phone sex for example. There was a time constraint, she was suppose to be meeting friends or something or another and I’m pretty sure she didn’t finish. But, I’m no quitter and I kept going. Strange. Maybe? Fucking dedicated? Absolutely. Anyway I remember hearing her actively getting ready to go out on the town, I can hear her walking in her bedroom, I can hear her rummaging through stuff on her dresser or maybe her desk. And as I’m remembering all of this I’m laughing and smiling and it’s a really fucking important memory because I don’t want to look back on such a large chunk of time and feel defeated or betrayed or any of those other absolutely miserable feelings I felt for so long. I want to look back on my first love as chaotic and sexy and really fucking weird all of the time. She was important. Is important. The way first loves will always be important.
(Also this vow of celibacy is going a lot better than I had hoped.)
30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.