Requiem for my ex.

Dave, I’m sorry you were so broken. That I didn’t see all the red flags until it was too late for our relationship. I’m glad you are gone. I know that sounds callous. But when a friend said she had news of you… I started getting a deep pit in my stomach. That you were trying to find me again. That you were moving here.

I know its been fifteen years since we spoke. I know I will never get back what you kept.

I don’t know if you ever changed. Or if you kept hurting women. I know you kept lying, changing stories.. I know after I left, you found yourself a nurse to date.

I don’t know how long she stayed. Maybe she is the one grieving you now. Maybe there is no-one.

I cannot. I grieve the time I spent with you.

I grieve the loss of the last fifteen years of not being able to date, of seeing red flags every time I took a step forward, trying to find love, companionship, even friendship.

I grieve the loss of the entire state you took from me, because I had to put so much distance between us.

You could be funny, you pretended to be progressive, you were in a strange way. You were also obsessive, a hoarder, and incredibly controlling.

You also behaved abominably to my grandmother. To my mother. And to me.

I still remember the temper tantrum you threw that caused me to leave. Stopping the car in the middle of the road, getting out, jumping up and down.

Because I’d forgotten the train schedule.

When my friend sent me the message on FB…. I thought “do I want to know?” I was afraid you were moving up here. I was afraid that I needed to stand up somewhere and say “hey this dude is a missing stair” because you had signed up for security at a con.

I’m glad I found out.

And yes, I’m glad you are out of this world. I feel lighter. Knowing you can’t hurt me or any other woman. That I don’t have to preface my FB friend requests with “if you know this dude, if you have mutuals, he is not safe” “I have an ex who is obsessive, this is his name, if he starts asking around about me” Because you were obsessive about your two prior exes while we were going out. You even read one’s mail while “fixing” her computer (Suzanne, if you are reading this, I wish I’d told you that, I’m sorry). I know you read mine. You kept my computer.

I did care about you once, before the gaslighting. But even though you are dead, I don’t think I will ever be completely free of you.

And that sucks.

Emotional abuse lives on long after the abuser is dead.

I think I need a renewal ceremony. I found an old computer repair card of yours, it might be time to burn it. And let both you and your abuse float away. Because you can’t hurt me anymore. (unless I find out you never updated your will or something, and I have to clean out your hoard! In which case, at least I finally get my stuff back!)