It doesn’t make me sick like it used to make me sick, but it still makes me sick…
Out of nowhere, a ghost from a past life (that was only a quarter lifetime ago) reappears – as if on cue, to make me feel sick. To make me remember. To keep me up all night, again.
Sometimes it’s not as easy as saying goodbye. Sometimes, it’s not as easy as surviving and starting over. Sometimes, things we wish we could leave behind, persist with us.
Once divorced, always divorced
I have a charming ex-husband. At least, at his best, he’s quite the silver-tongued devil. Well, when I knew him he was that is.
I have had very minimal contact with the man in the past half-decade. Even before our divorce, he had ghosted me, all but disappearing from my life after I had spent almost 7 years doing everything I could to fit him in to it (even despite his checkered past and the ongoing liability of his criminal tendancies)…
There are too many very sad stories, but the past isn’t the point… Entirely.
Truthfully, I don’t know what the point is. All I know is that my slimy ex emailed me a couple hours ago. No “hello,” no “how are you…” Nothing like that, he’s tried that before…. No. Nothing but a link to a GoFundMe campaign that he’s created for himself.
Apparently, he needs $200. He needs food, shelter and warm clothing… The saddest part is, I don’t doubt that he does.
The picture of him he posted in the campaign is pitiful… I’ve never seen him look so disheveled. Yet… I cannot send a dime.
Call me heartless and I’ll cut it out to show you that it’s even bloody
I have always hoped the best for this man. Somehow, I still love him and hope against hope that the miracles or blessings he needs will find him… But I cannot help him.
Could I send him money? Yes. Would that help him? I’m not really sure…
Did it help him when I worked tirelessly to pay our bills while he played his own real life knock-off version of Grand Theft Auto? Not at all. Did it help him when I spent my weekends driving 4 hours one way just to visit him in jail for less then 2? Can’t say it did. Did it help him when I flunked out of college my last semester while trying to juggle 3 jobs to support us while he was in prison? Another painfully obvious no.
Yet, this man has the nerve, the audacity…..
But he’s right. I want to send him ALL that damn money. I want to try and help him again… I have absolutely no desire to ever see him, and noticing that his location is listed as states away from me on his GoFundMe gave me a feeling of relief I couldn’t ever even hope to explain – but deep down I still want to give him the help he so desperately needs to give himself.
Seeing a bit of the Goddess in me
My propensity for foolish compassion has frustrated and angered me so much in the past, yet – as I lay here on the floor tonight, I am humbled by it.
I think of the Divine Mother, the womb of creation and source of life’s abundance, evermore giving… I think of her manifest presence, our prosperous earth, and her continued generosity even despite all our blind greed and shallow plundering… And I sigh with a bit of relief, knowing the depths of my longing to heal are as beautiful as they are tragic.
At the same time, I am aware that I am not fully the Goddess. In the past few years I have set some boundaries for my current expression of existance. Boundaries my ex far surpassed, long ago.
So, I am chosing to acknowledge my compassion, honor it with gratitude, but ultimately let it pass without acting on it.
Balancing my all-encompassing darkness with my piercing illumination
For all my feminine wiles, I am not lacking my masculine convictions.
My ex has a fondness for drugs. He can be dangerous, most especially to himself. I have contributed to his delinquencies in the past but I don’t have to hurt him like that again…
I can hurt him in all new ways.
I can ignore the email.
I can say a prayer.
I can cry.
I can and I will go on with my life without him – again.
I can hope that maybe this time he will try to help himself, really and truly, beyond just seeing how far his victimisation can get him… Maybe this time he’ll decide to make some real changes… Maybe he’ll find a program and actually commit…
Apparently he has access to the internet, he’s a grown-ass man and he’s physically capable… Even despite his background and traumas, I know he can make it. I hope that somehow/someway, by not sending him money, he knows it’s because I still believe in him and want the best for him.
Always and forever 💔