Last Christmas

It's funny how much things change in just a year. I remember last year at this time, I was figuring out a way to get Plan B the next day to work around my schedule. I spent a very long time laughing at my situation. Within only a few days I had invited him to my family's house to celebrate Christmas. He couldn't give me a definitive answer on whether or not he would come to my house on Christmas Day. I invited him to breakfast. This is something special, to me. Like most people, I have a lot of Christmas traditions. I actually really hate Christmas though. I usually call it "Xmas" but for the sake of writing, I am spelling it out. I derive that from my love of Futurama and my tendency to be more "spiritual" rather than "religious." My tradition is to spend Christmas breakfast with the people I love, especially the people I love the most. I really tend to pair it down. To be invited to my house for Christmas breakfast is not something to be offered. I don't give it out. So, he turned me down. He was supposed to drive to my house and be there on Christmas Eve. At 10:00pm I called him. He didn't answer. I was anxious. I was upset. My heart was broken. I put thought into the gift I gave him. Not the present, but what was in the envelope. I was excited to give it to him. So excited that I cooly handed him the bag, one I picked out especially for him (which I rarely do- I save gift bags and reuse them), and then I sort of walked away to sip on my wine like I didn't care at all. I did. Very much so. At the end of the night, he kissed me goodbye and I asked him to come over. To spend Christmas with me. He said he would think about it. He didn't know how he was going to feel. It made me feel like he didn't care at all.

Christmas Eve came and went. He didn't call or text me. Not uncommon for him. I was a wreck, however, because I had no idea what to expect and I wanted him so desperately to reach out to me. I called him and he didn't pick up. I had a fitful sleep. I barely slept more than an hour or two before I was looking at my phone, seeing nothing in return.

In the middle of the night, I received several missed calls. Video calls as well. I called back. It was 4:00am. He was very drunk. He initiated a video call and he asked me to turn on the light. He wanted to see my cute face. He needed me. He fucked up and he didn't like how he felt. I was alone with the kids so I said I couldn't leave my house for him. He had managed to wreck his car and end up in jail for a few hours. It explained why he didn't call or show up. He asked me to come over, after my kids left for the day. I was dressed up. I looked really good. I ended up changing into yoga pants. I felt like he was probably hung over and I decided to keep my expectations low. I remember texting my big sister on the way to his apartment, a good 45 minutes drive. She told me some advice. I mentioned my 'best friend' at the time. I mentioned a family member. I mentioned this guy. She told me to leave them all behind. I had other places to be. In my head, I knew she was right. But, when it came to leaving him in my mind, I couldn't do it. I thanked her for the advice. I took most of it. Just not that one part. When I got to his apartment, he didn't answer the door. His door was locked. I felt like a fool, standing on a worn doormat. Staring at the paint chip on his door handle. Wondering what the hell am I chasing this person for? I called him and he didn't answer right away. I felt like my heart was being crushed constantly. He answered the door in his boxers and a sweatshirt. He turned to get back into bed. We spent hours laying in his bed, napping and breaking a condom. When it happened I laughed. I laughed and tears formed in my eyes, right in the corners. It was funny. The universe was sending me a gift. The proverbial sign that I should have taken. I laughed some more. "Well, I guess we don't need condoms today, then." I joked. 

I made an appointment a few months later to get back on birth control. I had never taken Plan B before I met him and in six months I had taken it twice. The first time, I jokingly sent him a text saying, "let's just see what happens." He told me he never wanted to have kids. I think that's a good plan for him. He should get a dog and just watch porn. At least he wouldn't disappoint his dog. The first time I took Plan B, I was scared. My best friend was the only person who made me feel better about it. She just told me it was okay and it's normal. It's nothing to be ashamed about. It will be fine. Just eat some crackers and take it easy. It took three more months to make an appointment to get birth control. Another month and a half to reach my appointment. I cried about it for a long time. I kept hearing myself say, "I'll never have to take birth control again," and the memory of deciding to get pregnant with Max. I had just gotten married, bought a house, and I was going to be a mother. Something I wasn't even sure I wanted until I met my ex husband. I saw him across the room at a party and I fell in love with him in that instant. I suppose it wasn't clear to me at the time that he was already in love, with himself. I'm afraid, I could never live up to his own image. Alas, second place is still a place until you want to win. So. I cried. I cried at the memory of being happy once, even though it was in vein. I cried about being with someone who just wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it. I cried realizing I was chasing the same kind of person. I cried about being second place, yet again. He clearly wanted someone else. Whom? I am still not sure. But, I was never first place for him. 

I drove back to his house and gave him a ride when the tow place opened up after Christmas. I laid with him and helped him through a panic attack. I was late for work the next day, although I did make sure it was okay first. I was worried about him. I didn't want him to be in the place he was in. I thought maybe if I was there for him, he would pick up his own pieces. He made promises of quitting drinking. He did, I think. For maybe a few weeks. Maybe. I told him it didn't matter to me. He would do it when he wanted. Not because I needed him to quit. Otherwise, I would always be the reason. Months later, he scared the shit out of me almost passing out in my bathroom. He called for me and I was confused. I felt like it was a very weird thing he was asking me to do. He spent a lot of time being very distant from me and pushing me away when people were around. The moment he was vulnerable, he needed me. All of what I had. No one would see this. He wanted me to sit with him while he felt like he might throw up. I think he almost passed out. I grabbed his shoulders and put my knee up to stop him from smashing into the wall or the floor behind him. He said he was going to drive himself home and I didn't protest, but offered for him to stay. I held him all night. When he woke up, panicking, I grabbed him and held him with my arm across his chest. I breathed and settled the feeling inside of both of us. He didn't ask me to help him. He just needed help and I wanted to help. Sometimes, people don't see what happens behind closed doors. Maybe it's too intimate. Maybe people just don't want to know. I needed a lot and I felt like I didn't want to ask. I feel he was in a similar spot. Unfortunately for me, he wasn't there for me. I was always there for him. 

I struggled for about a year with giving him my heart. In the end, it didn't matter. He had it either way. In a crushing way, I had realized that he was very honest about how he felt about me from the beginning. He didn't want whatever was between us. He knowingly kept reaching out to me. Knowingly, he did things to my heart. Things he can't take back. Things I don't want him take back. I only wish he just would have had the decency to leave me alone at first, like he said he would. He kept coming on to me. I let him. I wanted him to come on to me. I wanted him. I still do and that's a painful thing to admit. I felt like I started building something that will never get finished and it's painful. To see such a beautiful thing build and no one live in it. 

As they say, I should give my heart to someone special this year. I have chosen who should get it this year. Last year, I should have given my heart to myself. I did in a way. More than I have in the past. But, this year, my kids get my heart. No one in this world deserves it more (other than myself) than the two of them. I spent a long time knowing that I would be here and enjoyed the time while I had it. I'm a single mom now and I don't want anyone else taking up my time or space in my heart. I have goals to meet and if anyone stands in my way then I simply have to cut them out. Not in a mean way. I'll always be a romantic. Waiting for my Prince Charming. The thing is, that he has to know I have goals and how to get to my heart without taking up my time. The right man will give me space and time. Not ask me to hold him through his pain, ignoring that I'm bleeding, too.