phantom relationship syndrome.

I’ve always hated the term ‘emotional baggage’. For me, it invokes mental image of, literally, a hideous, ugly suitcase, that predates bacteria and has stood the test of time, wear and tear, and possibly even a nuclear holocaust. How someone carries it around with them is beyond me, as the ratty looking, blood-stained thing doesn’t even have a handle.

However, no matter what your walk of life, no matter how gruff your exterior or how emotionally seasoned you may be, every one of us carries that memory of our first significant relationship that went south. Some wounds are fresher than others. Some get better with time, and some don’t – it truly varies from person to person. Though for me, despite my feisty nature and no-bullshit attitude, I’m still trying to learn exactly what it takes to truly flush somebody out of your system.

The strange thing is that I’ve been in a very healthy and happy relationship for half a year, now – it’s truly been a refreshing and, sadly, new thing for me, as my previous one was about as far from perfect as you can possibly get. Over the course of two rounds, the emotional abuse, lying, cheating – you name it, and I endured it. Yet I thirsted for, craved, and yearned for him, over and over, time after time.

In retrospect, be it a coping mechanism or just an observation, I view the entire ordeal as an addiction. He was a drug that I was pathetically hooked on, and was willing to endure practically anything to get another fix. When the going was good, it was really good – and it was those memories that kept me coming back, and are the same memories that haunt me on occasion, even today.

The simplest triggers – a certain song, a particular place or part of town, a specific stretch of highway, and I am overcome with this tidal wave of recollection that sweeps me off of my sanity horse and into this downward whirlpool of reminiscence. And though 90% of what our love became was heartache, stress, and pain, none of that is what comes back to me. It’s the happiest times that return – a late night drive where he fell asleep while holding my hand. Cuddling up with a movie during the first night of our reunion. Our first time. That first moment of spiritual intimacy and just that feeling of being so close and comfortable with somebody that you never want to let them go.

And, unfortunately, we only get one opportunity to feel that for the first time, and the person whom you share it with will forever be etched into your mind. They will walk with you until the day you die, whether you want them to, or not. These phantoms of relationships past are not something you can simply exorcise, or will away. They have minds of their own, which, even in ghost mode, have an odd tendency to be stronger than your own, living, real-time version. In this life, it is not the things we can help that stay with us the longest. You can selectively pick and choose what episodes you remember, but then there are those that slip through the cracks, drill their way into your heart and mind, and run wild, impossible to pinpoint, track down, and remove.

Why is that? I take pride in the fact that I’m a rather intellectual being, and I get so angry with myself when I get irrationally upset over a relationship that is long, long dead. We’ve both moved on, we have our separate lives, and have spoken maybe twice since the final altercation that brought about the end of an era. Yet I still think of him often, I still wonder how he’s doing, if he’s happy, and I worry to an extent that rivals when we were actually together. But instead of being persistent, like a dull headache, it’s more intensely concentrated these days – a sharp, pang to remind me that I’m alive and that I once loved somebody who I no longer ‘love’.

Should I feel unfaithful to my current partner for feeling these things? He doesn’t really talk about his former flames, and therefore, neither do I – though I get the distinct impression that he doesn’t dwell on them quite the way I do. Does that make me weaker than him emotionally? I don’t think so – maybe I just feel things deeper than he does, or perhaps I’m just too green in this department, and he has a greater wealth of experience to draw from. Possibly, for him, this life chapter is filed away somewhere within his library, untouched and collecting dust like an outdated atlas, whereas mine is still last year’s phone book – a little outdated, perhaps, but still relevant and usable.

Is my feeling these things an indication of trouble in my live-action relationship? No. Am I unsatisfied, or yearning for what I once had? No. Despite it all, I would never ‘trade’ my current situation to get my old one back. As much as I could, I learned from my ex-amour, took my lemons, and made them into something I’m unsure of. Though, I grew at the end of the harsh winter – of that there is no denying, and there is no right or wrong direction for growth – there is only growth. I learn something new every day with my boyfriend, and it’s the kind of knowledge that’s attained in a friendly, laid-back environment. Classroom learning vs. trench warfare. Organization vs. the loss of entire limbs.

I pray that, one day, I am heart-savvy enough to finally put this in my past and keep it there, like a junior high yearbook, or a home movie of a kindergarten class play. The things that are so traumatic to relive, that they should never see the light of day. And while I will always have the memory of the cravings, I’ll seek my fix elsewhere, and fill the void in other ways.

I pray for his happiness, and I pray for my own. And that, one day, I can dispose of this suitcase, and buy a whole new, prettier set.

~ by glamnesia on July 31, 2008.