471 Words About Moving Forward
A high school ex-girlfriend helps me bid farewell to 2024
She sent me a friend request.
Once, we were children in love. My war against myself was newly waged, and she was the first person caught in its crossfire.
Today, to her children, I’m probably the villain. The monster against whom the town’s villagers rally when she’s tucking them in at night.
And rightfully so.
I did her dirty. Several times.
It’s fascinating to see who’s emerging from my life’s rubble. We haven’t dated in more than 30 years or spoken in more than 20. However, news of my recent divorce must’ve trickled down through our shared high school friends.
If I’m being realistic, her motivations aren’t altruistic.
My therapist agrees. Mom’s aligned. My best friend thinks I’m a fucking idiot for considering otherwise.
However, my soul seeks to grant her the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe—if nothing else—I owe her that much?
Perhaps, I think to myself, she’s seeking closure.
Maybe she’s untangling the trauma I caused before the millennium rolled anew. Conceivably, she’s traversed her own mental health journey across the past three decades, read about mine, and wants to offer words of support?
Maybe.
But when I sit with my emotions, they boil down to this: whatever the reason, she hasn’t earned a window into my life. And I sure as hell haven’t earned one into hers.
After decades of reflection, I’m—deeply—apologetic for my transgressions because I’m sure they took a lot of hard work, self-reflection, and self-compassion to overcome.
If social media is any reflection, however, it looks like she has.
So, if this is a contest, then let me concede and say, “Congratulations. She wins.” I’ll be the first to congratulate her on her peace, fulfillment, and living life from a place of authenticity.
Let me also convey, “I’m sorry.” Whatever consolation that may offer.
By now, though, in the book of life, we’re many chapters from the people we were when we caused each other so much tumult in a sleepy Texas suburb.
Any answers she’s seeking from this version of Derek, nearly three times the age as our tryst and 800 miles away, don’t exist.
Other than apologies. And appeals to avoid my same path of seeking external relief from suffering, regardless of location.
If I dig deep, when it comes down to it, I don’t think I’m the same piece of shit that hurt her.
Maybe I am, though.
However, if she reads what I’ve written here, may our combined past exemplify how not to treat our fellow humans in the present.
Also, may she experience closure. And compassionate welcoming.
Looking back, I’m so thankful our paths crossed decades ago.
And that those years continue informing our futures and lighting our paths forward.
But I must politely decline her friend request.
Journey well, fellow traveler.
May 2025 bring light and beauty to all who cross our paths.
I’m amazed at your writing ability as you seem like a natural, Derek. I always say, ex’s are ex’s for a reason. Someone told me ‘former’ is a kinder way to put it. But, I think sometimes, x applies because like a scissor, it’s something you cut out. The first love cuts the deepest — or the first cut is the deepest so says Sheryl Crow.
In my own experience, each and every time I was tempted to return to whomever of whatever, in retrospect, I realize it was a test. The desire to be loved unconditionally is a powerful motivator. “What if” I could be “the one” to unlock the door? But, that was the child speaking. I needed to separate what I needed as an adult versus what the child wanted, but did not receive when I was very young. I have mourned long lost love and lost. I know now, in retrospect, that we could never recreate what ‘we had’ because that is a fantasy based upon childhood wish fulfillment. Maturity and sobriety required something else.
I don’t know if you’ve read King, Magician, Warrior, Lover by Robert Moore. There are stages according to Jungians that we all go through as adults in relationships. Similar archetypes may apply to women. I find it helpful. What we desire is not always what we need for our own personal growth.
It’s not our job to give others closure. I used to believe that. I often yearned for others to offer that to me. And, now I’ve realized that the closure is something I need to give myself. If you want to offer a gift — maybe it’s the gift of enabling her to find her own way — her own closure. We’ve all got to walk our own path.
Beauty and light sounds good. I’ll add freedom and serenity to the list. Happy new year.