Clandestine Confessions

“I was getting emails from Zillow letting me know you were looking at houses in Utah.”
It was brought up on a phone call back in autumn.
With a person from a far distant past – I say that not so much in the form of time but in the depth of life that has happened since our last encounter.
I was once planning a forever with this man.
And now was struggling to get through a mere ten-minute phone call with him.
He kept calling to a J that no longer exists – nor could she ever again.
And I had no idea how to relate to him as this woman.
Which had me questioning…did I ever?
–
I thought I obliterated all his connections to me.
But only after a breakup do you realize how intertwined you made your lives…
We joined our accounts at one point to easily view the properties we liked – to decide which one I would buy and move into.
Together.
“And I thought to myself ‘oh god, what is she up to now?’” he continued.
Perhaps I should have been offended by that.
But I just smiled.
Let out a laugh under my breath.
To live a life so bold and spontaneous is a reputation I will proudly claim.
And his comment reminded me I made the right decision.
In walking away from us forever.
I was living free – how it was aways meant to be.
–
“I was finding home,” I said. “And building a life that would be unreachable to my past.”
“Even I cannot reach you…,” he said.
“That was kind of the point,” I wanted to say.
But instead, I bit my lip – for this call was not agreed to be taken to deepen wounds.
It was done with the intention to heal them.
What good would it do to attempt to convince someone of the truth who was so blatantly unwillingly to leave their delusion?
–
“But why Utah?”
“Well, simplified version is I went to a wedding, met someone who —“
“Ah, the wedding guy,” he cut me off before I could continue. His statement drenched in the tone of jealousy…and anger. “I saw the photos.”
So much I wanted to speak.
Scream actually.
His loss was not my choice. Nor my responsibility.
I refuse to take accountability over the decisions he made to create this fate – and refuse to apologize for emotions he feels as a direct result.
I cannot keep shouldering the blame for what we became.
And I absolutely will not live the rest of my life as if I am “claimed” by a person who is already legally bound to another.
I am done punishing myself…I am worthy of better and better is out there waiting for me.
–
I said nothing further.
The Utah story owns the most sacred ground of my heart, and I was not going to allow it to be trampled upon with such vitriol and greed.
“So, did you find it?” his voice interrupted the silence my self-respect created. “Home?”
“I have never been more certain I belong somewhere. I have never felt safer.”
“Happy for you…,” the words lingered a bit longer.
It was his tell.
I would have rather he said nothing than try to feed me a lie, but that was for him to confront within himself.
And thankfully, I have experienced enough abundance of life to not depend on his words to fill me anymore.
“Thank you. Everything was worth it to end up here.”
And I meant it…absolutely everything…
–
I write this all sitting in the Starbucks down the road from my complex, the one where I received word in February 2022 that an apartment became available.
And the one where I just signed all the forms to renew that same apartment lease – a first in J’s history of renting.
Having never been content enough, never at peace enough, never safe enough, to commit to more than one year.
Always on the run.
Always trying to escape.
Always afraid to have my wings clipped if I stayed grounded.
–
But Utah rewrote the script.
Becoming my 828.
Because if there was no disorder, there would have never been home…