Lady Gaga-Alejandro

 I would have married him if he would have asked. That's how far gone I was with the South American Harley rider. It's been almost three weeks since we have spoken. It's like I have emerged from a drug induced fog. By no means does that mean that I am not feeling the loss of him. But it's more like I can be objective in a way that I wasn't before. I thought maybe it was a loss of human connection that was driving my pain which is especially heightened during this pandemic. But I did go out with a very nice man this weekend. I felt a connection to him even though it was not physical. 

The Harley rider is more than a human connection. He is a drug. A disease. An addiction. He activates my anxious attachment style and he clearly has an avoidant attachment style. When I think of him it's like I am banging my head against a brick wall. I literally have physical pain on the front and top of my head. He is a burning building that I can't stop running into to save my life. I've given it to November first and then I am blocking his number. I realize it is dangerous to leave myself open to his communication. I can't stop wanting him to contact me but pray he doesn't. 

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Heads Will Roll

 

Alanis Morissette-Smiling

 I don't know what's going to happen. It's been two weeks to the day since I've spoken to the South American Harley rider. We had gotten back together a month ago, lasted two weeks and now have not spoken for two. I know what I should do. I should block his number. Block his number so I'll never be tempted to go back if he contacts me again. But, when have I ever done the smart thing when he is concerned? 

In the space of a week and two days the Harley rider pushed me away and then my father did.  

I thought that a Latino Harley rider was the farthest thing from my white uptight accountant father but I couldn't be farther from the truth. They are one and the same man. When will I stop trying to win my father's love?  

I thought I could heal and be in a relationship with the Harley rider at the same time. But every time he was an asshole my PTSD would trigger. And he could be a major asshole. I fell hard from this last push away. I felt like I was in a rushing river and I could not get my feet on solid ground. I was swept up in feelings from the present and the past. I couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. My therapist helped me put limits on my thoughts to help with the surge of emotions. So my current goal is to only spend half of the day thinking about this shit. But I must not forget how this has made me feel. How he makes me feel. It's just a matter of focusing on how I don't want to feel that way again. I won't let him hurt me again.