Facebook memories keeps reminding me of L-related experiences. Today, a few things we did in Santa Fe, three years ago on this date. This was the day her mother's boyfriend accused her of "whoring around," which I recalled because, after she stopped crying in the parking lot of Albertson's, we were headed inside to get her mother's birthday cake, and we saw this bumper sticker:
And we both laughed. On my Facebook post of the image three years ago, she commented: "if ---->>>> when." Yeah, right, more like carpe numquam. And the memory pissed me off. But a little bit later this morning, a voice of reason came in to balance this anger of mine. "What did you expect, seriously? Two children age 2 and 5, 11 years with the same man, the father of her children, deeply embedded in his extended family who have taken her in like a daughter and shown her nothing but kindness. Who do you think you are to get angry that she would choose that over you?" It's good to get some balance. I still resent the ways I feel that she led me on. Or at bottom I resent the ways I let myself be led on. I feel like a total fucking idiot, and truthfully, much of my anger is at myself.
Yet, I would not trade anything whatsoever, not one second. I guess if it had been possible for me to let go and not believe in a future but still experience what we did, I would have. Right?
Anyway, I am removing these reminders from Facebook as they come up, scouring the outward "triggers." Whatever remains will just have to be in my own memory, not aided and abetted by a digital photo gallery. It's difficult enough moving on from all of this without the fucking reminders.
It's funny that I have been at this same hotel in Point Loma several times in the past, starting in October 2017, when I was here to give a presentation to a cactus club, and it has L sentimentality attached to it, in spite of the fact that she and I were never here. But that October trip here was just after I had visited the Twin Cities, and she messaged that the two of us should meet here in San Diego, and stay at this hotel. And somehow my incredible imagination spun out. And ever since, it has seemed that we have in fact stayed here, which is really weird. However, the good news is, this time, the heaviness of that weird sentimentality has worn off. I may have reclaimed the experience, and diminished the sense of it being entangled in L. It's especially odd, also, because A and I visited San Diego a couple of times, including for our 5th anniversary, and I feel not even one shred of nostalgia related to A when I am here. Just glad to be rid of her, frankly. So, yet more puzzling, trying to figure out how I work these dynamics.
Out to the coast at Cabrillo National Monument today, I think. It is probably crawling with people. We shall see. And a much anticipated dinner from one of my favorite restaurants tonight. Takeout, of course.
Peter,
It would seem that the better course of wisdom would be to let our memories of love and loss be occasioned by our own circadian rhythms that are intrinsically driven, rather than by Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook triggers. Our bodies bear their own truth.
Just sayin’,
Anne