"Happy as a Clam"

I called M, I tried calling others first but they were busy.

I've been told by a mutual friend that I toy and play with his emotions and treat him unfairly. I've been told that unless I want to be with him, I shouldn't have contact.

I always make justifications... it's just this once... I've been so good... etc... the list goes on.

I called. He answered. He listened while I ranted. He gave selflessly as I told him about my frustrations and how I feel like a failure. I whined about the things not working in my life.

He told me I was brave and strong and that I was doing my best. He assured me it was enough and if things got really bad he would be there.

We talked about history, about plague victims being volleyed over walls to infect those within in Europe. We talked about China and the Silk Road about movies and tv and how he loves trivia.

He asked when I last read for pleasure and not some business or self-development book.

I told him about Anne Bishop and her Terra Indigene novels. I went off on how much I love her black Jewels trilogy and how deeply I related to Jaenelle, about how a girl's leg is cut off in it and the children are forced to eat it in the book. I mourned that I related to such horror and depravities.

He encouraged my hope and assured me I wasn't crazy or a bad person. He said I handled the latest emails well.

I explained how frustrating the gaslighting was. How the request for friendship was so completely insane to me after the lies, insults, and abuse.

He listened. The greatest gift anyone can give a motormouth like me. He always listens. He always encourages. He is the greatest friend I could ever ask for.

He knows exactly how to deal with my attacks of PTSD and what to say when I'm in despair.

He got me through the worst time in my life. He never begrudged answering the door at three A.M. when I stood on his porch shaking and in tears for the millionth time.

He failed a class to meet my needs and that set back his graduation by a year when we dated in 2006.

I'm always taking and he's always giving. I can never repay the kindness he gives so freely.

Breaking up with him took every ounce of strength I had back then. I did it because him just leaving for a few minutes caused crazy anxiety.

I did it because I had become completely dependent on him and didn't want to spend the rest of my life freaking out anytime he left the room or hiding from the ugliness of the world encased in his goodness.

I sometimes think about what will happen when I'm strong again. When police aren't driving by my house every half hour.

When this current drama has faded and if my life ever gets stable, I think about relationships and the future and how someone like M is so amazing but how I hope he moves on because he deserves someone as amazing as him.

I can't see myself in a relationship. I can't see my heart opening again.

I don't see it as tragic or lonely. I'm happy in my little shell... Like a clam... maybe that's where the saying comes from "happy as a clam."