I am the definition of an extreme introvert.  It's exhausting. 
When I’m around people, the countdown begins. 

Even when I’m having a blast, the clock is ticking and eventually I have to bolt.  If I can’t remove myself or numb with booze or weed…it feels intolerable. I also need hours of uninterrupted alone time to recharge my battery…in preparation for bed.   It's one of my least favorite parts about living with a partner.  

Like, what more fucking questions or commentary did you have for me that can’t wait till tomorrow. 😑

My track record, on the other hand, tells a different story.  I quite literally met & fell for my 2nd gf while I was still with my first.  Unhealthy, yes; but that’s where I was at the time. 

By the time I met Cara, Leslie and I were done in every sense of the word except officially.  

I was afraid to leave my first relationship...to be alone and start over. 

So there I was, playing pretend, 5 years in.

Then one day I drove down to mom’s house for the weekend to hang out with friends.  She was having a BBQ with her buddies from work; one of them was Cara.  From the moment I saw her I had to have her.  This is how things go with me.  

I am DEEPLY consumed by that attraction and I hate it.  I did nothing about the attraction that night.  Fast forward to the next day…

All I did was think about her. It was time to return to reality and make the 2-hr drive back home. But first, I walked into the store where she and mom worked, to say goodbye.

Cara happened to be with her.  
By happened, I mean it’s how I planned it. 
I was banking on her being there because I had this plan.
The plan was to say hello and goodbye to them both, then close with, 

That was the master plan. 
Once I executed on said master plan. 
I walked into the cat food aisle, stood right in the middle and waited. 

Two minutes later, she arrived. 🐈‍⬛
Flirtatious chit chat turned into exchanging numbers, which led to her offering to walk me to the register, then to my car. 

I mean, the customer service was top notch.  

Despite our mutual misery, she didn’t see it coming.  

She had already moved out of my place months prior.   There was hardly anything left but the memory of what we once were. 

She was my 8th grade, first girl crush.

My 1st love and relationship at 19.  

We escaped our hometown together… 

Said fuck you to the homophobes around us together…

In the end, we were nothing but a mirror, reflecting each other’s dysfunction like a game of ping pong. Our beautiful yet turbulent history kept us connected, as did our shared brokenness.

This was the single thread. 

All of that to say, she didn’t see it coming and she was PISSED.  Hurt.

She quickly started questioning this newfound motivation of mine to leave. 

Once she uncovered the truth, revenge–aka a fucking Netflix series–swiftly followed.

She found out about Cara…

And about Cara’s ex, who was equally as pissed about me appearing out of thin air.  

It wasn't long before they went on a mission to break us up.  I’m talking about exchanging numbers, and meeting in bars to make plans to bully us until our relationship was pulverized into thin air. 

They’d text us through burner phones on a weekly basis.  
They’d say shit to me like, 

You’re so fat that no one can find your pussy. 

Granted, I was fat.  My weight has always been a symptom of the disorder in my head. 

At my deepest darkest rock bottoms (plural) I’ve been at my heaviest. 

Their arsenal was limited but they sure made use of what they had. 

It wasn’t original though; an ex-friend once said that to me during a fight as our friendship came to an end.  They were short on content AND originality, but I’ll give it to them; they worked with the little they had.

They’d text me to tell me Cara was still actively talking to her ex.  

Mind you, these texts were “anonymous.” 

While the “anonymous” activity transpired, Cara’s ex was actively trying to win her back. 

One day she reached out to tell her that she was moving into “their” new apartment. 

She said,

You don’t have to decide today. 

She gave Cara the address and told her she’d be waiting for her in their new home. 

At first, it was amusing, like the car crash on the freeway you can’t help but look at.  Then, it became apparent that these gals were committed. 

Well, bored and committed. 

Okay, fine: bored, hurt and committed.  2 years of stalking and bullying later, and we were done.  I went to the police once, to ask.  I wanted to know how one legally makes something like this stop.

They told me they couldn’t help because the texts weren’t life-threatening.  The non-life-threatening texts wouldn’t stop and we were over it.  They were succeeding at creating conflict within our fresh new relationship.

And the thing is, I try to give people a chance to do the right thing.  I try until you show me you can’t.   I know that sounds…combative.  

But ya know what? It’s not always me who does the work. 

The universe, for example,  has a way of balancing things out. 

Like when that ex-friend once said I was so fat she couldn’t find my pussy, then 10 years later, I’m driving through my hometown for the first time in a while and I see her crossing the street.  She’s double her size and she looks fucking miserable.   

I'm watching in disbelief as she crosses the street. Her choices over the last 10 years have compounded and the verdict is in: it is her pussy we can't seem to find. The universe is gangster and I’m all about it. 

But dang.  Sometimes, I have to be one to balance things out.  

Fast forward to the problem needing resolution. Cara knew some people.  They are wonderful people who solve problems the way they do in movies.   She made a call and a few days and flights later, her people were in town.

Let’s just say these people investigated, located and intimidated the anonymous offenders. 

Initially they thought it was a game like the one they were playing… 
Cara’s people had to physically demonstrate that it was not a game, but rather, reality. 

The problem was real and the solution was too.  Don’t worry, nobody died.   The anonymous stalking magically stopped. 

Years later, I emailed Leslie, cuz I’m a dummy.  

I apologized for the abrupt and unkind ending to our relationship years back.

Regardless of her coping mechanisms, I should have handled our breakup more compassionately.  She responded and said, 

You were always good with words. 

I never saw Leslie again. 

Cara ran into her several times over the years.  

I always wondered how that would play out if I saw her at some restaurant, you know? 

I think about her sometimes.  

I hope she too has invested in her personal growth and that she's happy and at peace.

As for my relationship with Cara…

That OBVIOUSLY didn’t work out and we broke up after 4 years. 

Turns out, when you slide from one relationship to the next, you learn nothing. 

The same you shows up to the next one and you destroy that one too. 

I hadn’t yet grown beyond 19 and that cost me.   

The chaos we attracted matched the unresolved hurt we both carried. 

Which, by the way, I have question…

How come I had to be a committed student of personal growth…

Read/listen to books and podcasts on the subject for years…

Go to therapy and fail at 2 relationships…

How come I had to work hard to discover that I’m not a victim?

Fuck calculus. How about teaching Personal Development + Relationships 101 in High School?  

How about…let me teach you how to avoid trash experiences by helping you become less trashy yourself. 

Or, let me teach you how to handle conflict without stalking and bullying a person…

So that you never have to fear for your life again.  

Ya know?

-KARLA