The rather apt prompt of today.
Unfortunate, really, I was hoping to avoid my problems via the prompts, but I’m denied even that small luxury.
What has unravelled recently in my life? Aside from the threading of my jumper and my sanity, my relationship has recently died a death.
There’s not a lot I really want to say on here, to be honest. I’m a very open person, and I like to tell every passing stranger my deepest darkest secrets, which as an actor and poet, is a part of my nature. But for once, I am not compelled to share all in the slightest. The whole story, of course, can only ever be known to him and me, but the people in our lives who have the closest thing to the full picture are my parents, his close friends, and a few carefully selected friends of mine. Some have got the vague explanation. Most, a brief, catch-all statement of the trials of long distance, when asking. I have not at any point lied or misinformed, just for once in my life I have kept something back for myself. Kept a secret for my sanity, if you will.
You, dearest readers, are scarily anonymous, and it is tempting to forget your existence in all its corporeal-ness and spill to you, an unthinking, unbiased blank canvas. But that isn’t what you are, really. You’re a loud and divided smattering of individuals all over the globe, and a fair few of you are my friends in real life, from home or university. One of you may even be the ex in question. Hi, if you’re reading. I still love you, and I don’t care there’s an audience of 80-odd people watching me say that. I’ve never been put off by a crowd. I will feel this way for some time, I know, and yet I also know, deep in my bones, that this decision was right for both of us, even if it sucks right now. Ask your best mate. I’m sure he’ll bad-mouth me and make you feel better.
It’s a weird thing, isn’t it? Say it out loud. Ex. Boyfriend. Ex. Girlfriend. Ex. Ex. X. Why are they supposed to denote kisses anyway? Why choose something to be a blessing and a blow? So much passion in one little letter. An x has the power to heal all wounds… or to unravel them.
I wrote a poem, once, called X. I’d put it up here, but it’s a poem about us separating, and I promised him I wouldn’t share our poetry now.
Shame. It kind of captures the moment. “We are over and it’s weird and sad”. Kind of couldn’t put it more accurately, I guess.
In the course of the inevitable unravelling, I’ve managed to balance myself out, be somewhat objective and analytical, and pretend to the world that I am not, in fact, grieving for the loss of a future I invested in with the optimism that only someone who is experiencing first love can bring. I have moments when I want to undo the decision and work things out between us. I have moments of indescribable anger, at myself and at him, thinking if we’d just done this or that differently, maybe we could’ve survived. I spend a lot of my time either drowning in regret and terrified that I’ve made a terrible mistake, or deeply guilty for the hurt I’ve caused.
Unravelling the relationship doesn’t mean we’re erasing it, doesn’t mean we’re undoing anything. We’re just returning us both to our original states, if you like. But even when you unravel a jumper, the wool isn’t the same as it used to be. There are kinks in the yarn, faded parts and thinned fabric by the elbows. It’ll never be the same, and there’s something quite beautiful about that.
God that’s pretentious as hell.
I am very fortunate to be able to say that I have not regretted my time in this relationship, neither am I regretful (at least not yet) of how it ended. Once it became clear that in spite of all our efforts it just wasn’t viable anymore, we parted on good terms, without missing a beat. Without dropping a stitch.
To my significant other (because even if we aren’t together anymore, you’re going to be my significant other for a long time now), I hope you are doing the best you can, and I hope we will reconnect in the future, in a different kind of relationship. Perhaps a scarf would be better this time. They’re easier to make, and if lost, unlike a wooly jumper, their absence doesn’t make you feel so cold.
Spring is coming, anyhow. Perhaps its time we learned how to keep ourselves warm.
Wishing everyone a happy Easter and a brighter future,