Life as Betsy » History

Does everyone get mesmerized by your fire?

June 30, 2007 – 1:13 am

When I hear the song "You’re Beautiful", I think of you. Not because I think you are off somewhere pining for me, but because I get the feeling that in another time and place, we could have been something really good. This incredible ball of passion and creativity and sweet, mellow admiration melting together in a masterpiece. You are what I think of when I think of art and the creative process. You were the final thing I had to let go of when shedding my childhood hopes and dreams, this unrequited love I held for you.

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Protected: You critize my walk as I watch you crawl

June 23, 2007 – 9:35 pm

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I know what you think of me; you never shut up

June 21, 2007 – 8:09 am

I’m not exactly sure why the opinion of an ignorant, stoned, white trash degenerate I haven’t seen or even thought of in four years is bothering me so much. But it is. I didn’t even date him. I dated his fucking brother!! I am having one of those plights where equally calculated, cut-throat, bitter comebacks to match his email come to me throughout the day. I could respond with them. But what good would that do? It would only tarnish the genuine happiness I am feeling these days. He already ruined an impossibly perfect day yesterday. I try to erase his words from my mind. I went as far as to imagine a pencil eraser moving in short, smooth motions across the page in my mind. But his toxicity lingers today and makes me embarrassed to be me.

How is it that four years later, I can still be rendered to feel so completely worthless?

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Its not so much the pain. It’s the actual knife.

May 3, 2007 – 2:19 pm

"Promise me," he said, with the softest eyes I’d seen him have in days. "Promise that if your father is unable to walk you down the aisle at your wedding, you’ll consider me? I’d be honored to give you away."

It was night two of the big bad break up week, when he’d decided last minute to go get her and her friends at this rodeo (that I had and then had not, been invited to myself) and then they all got too drunk to drive home, so they had to have him come get them. But then he drank too, so in the end, I waited up until about 2 in the morning for him to show up, so we could have the talk he’d promised earlier that day. He’d finally rolled in, with her following him and then we had to follow her back to her house, since she really was too drunk to be driving on the windy roads of Confidence. We followed her because I didn’t want to allow him to be out any later with her than he already had and I wanted to make sure that I was there. I was still there. His showing up at that stupid rodeo did not mean that he was her’s. Not until I was ready to give him to her. That would come less than a week later.

"Zack, I really have to say that if my father were not able to walk me down the aisle at my wedding, I’d do like my mother did and have my brother give me away. How sick and twisted would it be for my ex-boyfriend to give me away?"

The words genuinely hurt him. I could see it in the way his chest heaved as he looked down and packed a bowl. "I would hope that we stay close enough that it wouldn’t be your ex-boyfriend giving you away, but your best friend."

I knew then, as I stared into the fireplace and petted Marley that we would never be best friends. Not like he thought. Nothing ever goes the way he thinks it will. He’s an unmotivated daydreamer who is always looking at the greener grasses.

Last night’s conversation reminded me of this night. And this is the closest I can come to talking about it.

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The yesterday we loved

April 24, 2007 – 7:56 am

Possibly one of the neatest things anyone has ever done for me. For my 16th birthday (wow, was that really ten years ago???), my friend Evie went around and had all our friends and acquaintences sign a huge construction paper card for me. And naturally, I kept it.

The love from this card still radiates on me today. And cheers me up immensely today, because somehow, turning 26 is not nearly as fun, flashy or celebrated as turning 16.

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Setting free the anchor and looking past the shore

April 12, 2007 – 11:45 am

Four years ago today, I wrote probably the most painful and heartfelt letter of my life and gave it to you as I hugged you goodbye for the last time. Your mouth was small and tight with a forced lack of emotion and your words were short and quick. Your embrace lacked warmth and your body language told me you wanted me gone as soon as possible. Me hanging around only reminded you that you were no longer in control and I was no longer responsible for you. You stuffed the letter into your pocket and then proceeded to lose it, as you told me a few weeks later. But I realize now that you purposely threw it out, with or without reading it, enraged that your plan of playing her and I against each other had backfired. You weren’t going to get choose in some elaborate "Bachelor" type drawn out fashion; I’d flat out made the decision for you.

It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

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What Might Have Been

April 6, 2007 – 1:19 pm

Sure I think about you now and then

but it’s been a long, long time

I’ve got a good life now, I’ve moved on

So when you cross my mind

chorus:

I try not to think about what might have been

‘cause that was then and we have taken diff’rent roads

We can’t go back again, there’s no use giving in

And there’s no way to know

What might have been

We could sit and talk about this all night long

And wonder why we didn’t last

Yes, they might be the best days we will ever know

But we’ll have to leave them in the past.

That same old look in your eyes

it’s a beautiful night

I’m so tempted to stay

But too much time has gone by

We should just say good-bye

and turn and walk away

No, we’ll never know

what might have been

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Protected: April’s Fool

April 6, 2007 – 11:32 am

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We lost touch, we lost in love, we lost our minds when things got tough

March 13, 2007 – 7:57 pm

There are the ex-boyfriends you stay friendly with . . . the kind you say hello to when you run into them at the same club on New Year’s Eve or perhaps get a drink with every three years or so. You wish the best for them, regardless and you are happy for them when things go their way.

There are the ex-boyfriends you lose touch with, accidentally or intentionally and always wonder what became of them and their love lives after your parting. But things ended as they should have and really . . . you just let go and move on.

Then there are the ex-boyfriends (who are the rarest kind) that actually do remain friends. Call you back with the same enthusaism that you had called them with. Genuinely support you and truly remain friends with you, despite what Harry and Sally had said. With the occasional lover, yes, you can remain great friends.

Last June (it doesn’t seem like that long ago, but it was) I found that ex-boyfriend of mine, Nathaniel. He goes by Nat now and though he’d always insisted on calling me Elizabeth when we were dating, he calls me Betsy. With pulse raced and fingers trembling a little, I clicked on Add Friend and a couple days later, when he next logged in, he added me. And for months, we’d occasionally shoot each other an email or comment, but never got the chance to really catch up.

We got that chance Saturday night. And I’ve been thrilled ever since. Because he is "so proud of me getting married". He said that several times over the length of our phone call. During our phone call, he popped onto his MySpace and ribbed me a little for putting up such an old shot of him. So . . . I decided to fish out a couple more, just for good measure.