Who in Hell is this person?

In preparation for my next memoir Slackers, I’ve forced myself to spend time with a pathetic soul that I had once known on an intimate level. ME. The 23, 24, and 25 year old ME. It’s all about ME. Thankfully, the man I’d been then dating (The Crustacean) was, is, and always will be a hoarder. He graciously allowed me to borrow the letters I had sent him during our two year dating period. Initially, he had wanted swap letters, but his were “lost” (via scissors) soon after our last break-up…my attempt to remove, forget, and progress before a straight jacket fitting became necessary.

Last weekend, they arrived in water resistant packaging.

Three inches! Pretty Impressive!

He had even saved what I like to call Section II, Part C of his holiday gifts. For our first Christmas, I made paper dolls. In this picture his Halloween costume protects his identity.

Reading over my words, I suppressed my gag reflex. Who in Hell is this person? Her handwriting’s alike, well neater and way more legible, but obviously from the same hand. She does recycle paper, and overuses the word coffee, so she must be ME. But what she says…MY GOD!

“I miss you. I really miss you! I hate this. It shouldn’t have to be like this! And I fear that now we’re going to see each other less and drift apart….I just feel lonely without you here.”

Translation: I’m half a person. Without you, I’m only 1/4.

She was not a teenager. She (Lonna Cottrell) had already dated handfuls of other men and had a degree in Biology with visions of medical school. He lived a distance away, but we had managed to spend mostly every weekend together, and yet I STILL felt the need to fill him in on my minutely thoughts.  Some letters were postmarked 2 days apart.

As if the pink, purple, and red envelopes with upside down stamps weren’t enough, I had written I love you inside the flap so when The Crustacean opened them that would be the first thing he saw. Crazy.

I just want to slide my hands through a time warp and shake this chick.

After our first breakup I had written…

“You and I are worth one more try. Please don’t give up on me. I will stand by you through everything. I will do anything for you.”

Everything? Anything?

These naive words came from the same person who wanted to see Avatar until she found out it was a love story. I’ve spent the majority of the last decade sounding like Dr. Gregory House from House M.D. or Christina from Grey’s Anatomy. Have any of those characters ever uttered anything similar? No.

I would have dumped myself 3 times too.

That person (she) has long left the building, but reading over the past has rekindled a desire for romantic love. I’m not sure I believe in that sort of love, but I want to, I really want to. That’s progress. I miss the electricity, not the stupidity.

Yes, I no longer desire to be the Ice Queen. Only, the Dairy Queen. Hopefully someday, I’ll be able to meet myself in the middle. Optimistic, even-keeled, AND with a spine.

4 thoughts on “Who in Hell is this person?

  1. Great post. When I think of any “me” in the past I can’t help but shake my head in disbelief. They say though, that every seven years you have replaced every old cell in your body with new ones (perhaps it’s just talk, feel free to disprove this) But I like the idea, that way you’re not that person at all anymore.


  2. True, but as much as I mis-like my former self(ves!), the only way I’ve found peace is to sort through it and accept it as past and move on. Granted, accepting the cringe-worthy bit is tough as hell, but if we don’t figure that out, we only continue to kick ourselves over who we were and we get stuck in a loop. Thanks for sharing.


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