Difficult Steps (ie Letting Go)

Anyone who knows me knows that I am almost a contradiction of personalities at times. I am outgoing and love to laugh, but am shy when it comes to meeting new people or flirting with guys. While some people have the innate ability to shamelessly flirt with people, I sit back in the wings and wait for things or people to come to me.
It's a wonder that I ever had the success I did at meeting both S and J (you know who they are) because they pursued me and my laid-back style really worked for me. They got to have the chase they wanted, and I didn't have to come out of my shell to make a move on them.
Another thing that is difficult for me is to let go of things I've been holding onto-both physically and emotionally. Before I start to sound like a basket case who needs psychiatric help, let me explain because it's not what it sounds like.
I have pretty much lived out of a box since I was sixteen. Actually, when I was sixteen, I had nothing--I went into the care of social services without so much as even a change of clothes. The clothes they ended up getting us were too big and horrible looking. Shauna ended up losing her favorite stuffed dog, Whopper. I still think about that. She used to take it with her everywhere. But I guess he wasn't meant to accompany us on the next part of our journey.
When we finally managed to get our things, I held onto them because it was all I had. Every time we changed places, I had to pack up my stuff again and move. Everything else, everything too big to carry, and sometimes things that meant a lot to me, were left behind. At one point, Mom found out where we were staying (she was a good detective with things like that) and called us-threatening to burn all of our stuff.
So when I finally stayed at a place for a few months or more, I kept everything. Plus, with moving around so much, friendships were fleeting. I'd make a new friend, share a few memories, then move away again. Pictures we'd taken or things we'd done were lost ... and a part of me was lost with them and left behind.
I think that's part of the reason I've felt so strange having lived where I do now for so long. I think a part of me is afraid that if I let this stuff go, the memory will be lost forever. So I've kept momentos of my travels for the past 14 years. But I've reached the point in my life where ... it's time to let it all go. It's time to let go of the fears and insecurity I've had about keeping it and it's time to remember that the one thing that has always been with me this whole time is me. And I'm not going to lose that. Even if there are no pictures of family that ever adorn my walls or photographic proof of where I've been, I'll still remember and I'll still have me.
This all may sound like common sense, but most people seem to have only moved once or twice in their lives. They don't know what it's like to live out of a box every year or wonder when the next move is going to happen. But I do.
So I feel as though I've become a true adult because I've started to get rid of it all ... stuff I don't need, stuff in boxes, stuff I'll never use. I have decided that less is more. Less is more. My room right now is completely torn apart. If it doesn't have a direct purpose, it's going in the trash. I feel better already.
The second step I've made is that ... I finally let go of someone who I've loved for a long time.
You know, I always tell people not to burn bridges. You never know when you're going to need someone. So you should always treat them with respect and kindness. Always. And I have the tendency to appreciate good things and want to keep them in my life. The funny thing is, sometimes something appears to be good, but really, is actually hurting you.
So my ex boyfriend, who I was desperately in love with but broke my heart, keeps coming around. He buys things for me and ... I haven't had the heart or the will to tell him no. Worse, he has a girlfriend and a six month old baby at home.
He doesn't come around like he used to. There are no fake hugs or perfunctory niceties that you'd expect from a couple who broke up and stayed friends. He plopped himself in my office and proceeded to tell me that he knew where my new "assignment" at work was going to be. The thing is, I had been offered this assignment and hadn't made up my mind to accept it or not. It would come with a ton more responsibilities, dangers, and difficult hours. In thinking about this, I had to decide what it was going to do to me. If you know me, you know that this job already takes a difficult toll. What would happen to my soul if I were to accept the job? As cheesy as this sounds, I am at my best when I am loved and supported. It's difficult to negate stress when I come home to a lonely life. I don't know how to explain it... that's just the way it is. So if I were to accept the responsibility, that girl I know -- the old me who is still clinging on to the life of being sweet, slightly naive but kind--would be replaced by the girl who is hardened, realistic, and forever changed by the sights I've seen.
Anyways, so he tells me that he'll "put in a good word" and this and that... and the thing is--where was he when I was going through a difficult dating situation a year ago? Where was he when I had to move my stuff from his house when he cheated on me? Where was he when I struggled at my job and didn't know what to do? Where was his friendship then? And now he just acts like he can drop on by whenever he wishes and pretend that he's still my good friend. Well, I'm not a friend of convenience.
The old me, the one that still loves him, wanted to make sense of it all. Why would he be doing those things for me? For what purpose? The old me, the one who also wanted to maintain the friendship, felt --even in the smallest way--loved.
But the new me, the one who feels as though I deserve to be treated well is like, WHAT is this? What is he doing? Why try to be my friend once in a while? And why on earth does he think I still need his help or welcome his "good word" to someone else? A lot of people know what happened even though I've tried to make it not that big of a deal.
Well, what made up my mind is this: the other day, another one of my co-workers approached me and started telling me all the funny stories about him in his new life: about dealing and adjusting with the new baby he and his girlfriend have just had. And I realized something important: despite his pretense that we are still friends, I am missing out on the best part of a good friendship--the part where I get to be a part of his life too. I'm not a part of his life. I don't get to hear about the baby laughing for the first time or taking steps for the first time. I don't get to hear about how he feels about life or how he's dealing with being a new parent. All I get, is the "I'll put in a good word for you" sort of half-hearted friendship--a friendship based solely out of guilt. He feels guilty for what happened. He's told me so. He's told me "I'm trying to make things right." But the truth of it all is, he'll never make things right. I don't know, to be honest, if that's possible.
So ... gathering up my courage, I pushed away the person in my head telling me that I still wanted him around. A part of me still wants that interaction, even if it's unhealthy for me. How crazy is that?!? (don't answer). I wrote him an e-mail (I could have never done this in person) and told him that I didn't want his "help" anymore. I didn't want his friendship. I told him that given the circumstances, friendship wasn't possible. I wished him the best of luck with his new life. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and hit the SEND button.
He called me later that night--didn't leave a message. I'm lucky that I was at a friend's party or I would have been tempted to pick up the phone. I'm so glad I didn't have to hear it ring. I guess his lack of a message is clear enough: there's nothing more to be said. I'm right and he knows it. We could have wasted another two years being polite.
Anyways, it was a difficult step. It's difficult to let things and people go. But sometimes, you have to cut away the fat in your life in order to be healthier, happier, and stronger.
All I can say is that ... I feel proud because I know that I have made steps in a positive direction. I will miss my things and I will miss my "friendship" with J. But let's face it, a half-hearted friendship isn't a friendship at all, and things you aren't using are merely pieces of junk that clutter your life.
Sometimes, you have to let things go ... and give yourself permission to live again.