The Mimsy Saga: Part 4

I haven’t written about Mimsy in forever. I must warn you, this piece will be quite the departure from the previous segments. It will not be a continuation of the saga, but rather a current moment in time that happened just last night. Something struck a nerve, a chord, a feeling. And man let me tell you, it was fantastic.

Met some friends for a few drinks (yes only a few) and eventually we got to talking about other people we all had in common that weren’t present. Naturally my Mimsy came up in the conversation, as he is a whore and everyone knows him. I instinctively recoiled, yet relished at getting to hear his name spoken out loud besides someone other than myself. I expressed my feelings that his name is not to be mentioned out loud in my presence, which of course ushered in questions. Maybe I wanted the questions. Maybe I needed a release after the nightmares from the sleepless evening before. They needed to know what he did to me. Everyone needed to know what he was. So I told them. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

I begin by of course stating that he’s the world’s biggest douchebag, and that’s he a complete and utter asshole that deserves the worst. Even as these words are uttered, I’m not sure I believe them. Part of me thinks he’ll get what is coming to him. And part of me wants to protect him from it. Like he’s a naive child that doesn’t know any better, instead of a grown ass man in his 30’s that played me like a violin. As I describe what happened, eyes grow wider. Swear words are muttered, smiles break out. There’s no tension, and I feel completely comfortable revealing an awful truth. What I did was shitty, and what he did was shittier. After a while, one of them wanted to see who this asshole was. So of course, we turn to our handy dandy tool: Facebook. Facebook is the end all be all of stalking. Of course I still have pictures of me and him on my phone, but I wasn’t going to mention that. So Facebook was the next choice. Once I saw the profile, I was dead in the water. Naturally I forgot to bring my floaties to the restaurant.

Just when I thought I was out, he pulls me back in. I see his face, I think of his smile, I remember all the fun we had. It’s intoxicating. Suddenly it gets harder and harder to breathe. My body starts to ache and I begin to miss the smell of him. The adrenaline rush is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, besides being with him of course. I just want him near me. I want to hear his voice, but not just the way I remember it. I want to hear it say my name. I want to hear it say that he misses me the way I miss him. I know that even if he said those words, it would just be to placate me. He never did care, as he only cares about himself.

I miss you Mimsy. So goddamn much. It’s been years and it still feels like a fresh cut wound. I fear that you may have broken me. I fear that you have ruined love forever. It’s such a cliche. You love a boy, and the boy never loves you back. It’s because of that boy that you never love again. So far it has proven true. While I dated and loved someone after Mimsy, I wasn’t in love with him. I cared deeply for him, but it wasn’t the real deal. If I did end up with him, it would have been settling. Would it have been fair for either of us? I’m not sure. All I know is that it would have been something, which is a hell of a lot better than nothing. When Mimsy and I were together, I asked him if he was in love with her. I mean for God’s sake, he nicknamed his girlfriend Mother. What kind of man names the woman he sleeps with Mother? Grossness. He said no, he wasn’t in love with her, but that he loved her very much. I never knew what that meant until I met Grumpy Gills. I never understood why Mimsy was willing to settle for some psycho he cared about, but wasn’t in love with. And then he proceeded to tell me that he would rather settle with someone he didn’t love, rather than lose it and risk never finding true love again. That it had been ruined for him long ago. I wonder if Mimsy knows that he did the exact same thing to me? That he took a piece he had no right to take and never gave it back?

Even as I spoke to those people last night about how much of an asshole he was, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. I spoke about how he had taken advantage of an awful situation. About how he knew I wasn’t in a good place, and still went through with it. About how everything was so wrong, but at the same time felt right. Mimsy is the one person that has wronged me that I have never split on. That’s how I know that my feelings are real. There was no idealistic thinking, no making up thoughts or feelings, and no idolizing this man. I know he’s a piece of shit. I know he’s more fucked up than I am, and I love him anyway. In fact, I love him in spite of that. I never wanted him to change to fit my ideals. I wanted him to be happy, healthy, and safe. That’s it. If it’s not with me, then fine. It kills me everyday, but fine. I know that even if they were to break up, he wouldn’t come back to me. I have no delusions of grandeur that this man is in love with me, or that he gives the slightest little fuck about me. I was a distraction from his messed up relationship. I was an experiment gone wrong. But what hurts me even more is knowing that he’s not happy, health, or safe with her, and they both know it. Just leave the wicked bitch of the east Mimsy, and find your happiness again. You are the best version of yourself when you are as far away from her as humanly possible.

But fuck it. Some days it would be easier if we just all went up in flames.

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