Did you ever have someone in your life that wronged you and was incommunicado for a long time then out of nowhere they just show up at your doorstep one day begging for forgiveness?
As my sister and I have always said, they always come crawling back.
What the fuck is up with these people? I mean the fucking gall.
Maybe the two of you didn’t speak for months, years even, but one fateful day (the day they decide mind you) they come knocking on your door, ready to talk, apologize, bare their heart, beg for you back. What are you supposed to say to that?
How ‘bout go fuck yourself bro?
On the surface one would think a clandestine moment such as the aforementioned fateful day would be welcomed, heart-poundingly embraced even.
Um, how ‘bout no.
I’ve actually had such a thing happen to me.
Many years ago a lost love randomly showed up on my doorstep one rainy night maybe ten months or so after we had broken up. We were dating for about a year when one day he called and broke up with me with some bullshit excuse that I can’t even remember now. I knew it was BS because the real reason was because he was seeing someone else, which of course he denied and called me crazy for even thinking it.
Well guess the fuck what? Doesn’t he end up dating this denial-girl like a split second after we broke up?
And I’m the crazy one.
So denial-boy showed up one night telling me what a jerk he was, how sorry he was he hurt me, and proclaimed how much he missed me. Of course he also sheepishly admitted that “things just didn’t work out” with denial-girl and what a fool he was for not realizing what he had with me.
Cue the sad music.
Old me swooned (not too much though, I let him sweat a little at least). But inside I was doing cartwheels. It was the moment I was waiting for. *Embrace *Kiss *End scene.
Cue the romantic montage.
My mistake was opening the door in the first place.
Worms come out in the rain.
So yeah, my bad, he got me. He got through my bravado with his *cough* sincerity, his puppy dog face, his words of repent that ignited my hopeless romantic heart. I remember saying to him “I always wondered when you’d come knocking on my door”. He said, “well here I am.” It was as if I had willed it. I guess I did.
And I let him waltz right in.
One night, a new beginning. The night I had been waiting for. But, as the dark fairy tale of my life goes, you guessed it, I got dissed all over again.
One night turned into…nothing…again. No happily ever after here, just more of the same from the first time. I was half-expecting it this time at least, but whole-hoping I was wrong. The pain the second time wasn’t nearly as bad though.
A heart of ice learns to expect such things.
I could blame my door-opening on my youth, I wasn’t even 30 years old yet when this happened. But I’ve since learned better. I’ve actually learned not to blame myself at all.
I had youthful hope that fateful night, hope that the second time around would be different. It wasn’t of course.
We all know where hope gets you.
Apparently it gets you writing a blog 20 years later about your failed love life.
I could say I was maybe at least 5% at fault for letting this person in, but no, now that I have a fucking brain that isn’t clouded by the naivety of youth, I’m officially listing my fault at 0%. The fault lies 100% on the crouched, rain-soaked shoulders of my late night caller.
We’ll call him The Graveler. And I’ve encountered a few of his disciples since.
Yeah, it is 100% his fault, more to the point, it’s his ego’s fault. Did he come knocking on my door one day to apologize because he really missed ME, was concerned about MY feelings? Because he knew how much I was hurting after he ripped my heart my out?
NO!
He didn’t give two shits about the shattered pieces of my heart. He only cared about his own. His life had started to fall apart and that’s all that mattered. His new relationship “just didn’t work out” blah blah blah.
It all came down to his ego.
His ego couldn’t take the failure so he went running back to the one thing that could give it what it desperately needed–to be wanted. And he knew I’d say yes. And like a schmuck, I did.
Gravelers only gravel because their ego is starving–starving for attention, affection, starving to feel wanted and loved. A starved ego is like a heroin addict needing a fix. Nothing will stand in the way. Certainly not something like your unimportant feelings.
The problem with such an ego-starved person is that they look for what they needed in others.
My Graveler thought that other people could validate his ego, sustain it, feed it when it was malnourished. Gravelers need your attention, your acceptance, your validation. They need you to open that door. It never occurs to them that the best way to heal an injured ego is to nurse it from within.
Your own worth doesn’t come from others, it comes from you.
Mindblowing.
But live and learn people. Live and fucking learn. Wrong me once, shame on you, yeah yeah yeah. I sure fucking shamed myself on door-opening-night now that I look back. My ego took a big hit.
I’ve had a few figurative door knocks since then. I’ve learned my lesson though, I think. Either that, or the ice wall around my heart is so fucking thick by now it acts like global warming isn’t even a real thing.
Holy fuck – is my icy heart a Republican?
Anyway, these fucking Gravelers really get my goat. I don’t know where that saying comes from but it feels pretty emphatic.
Like who in the fuck do these people think they are? More so, who in the fuck do these people think they’re dealing with? I may be a pumpkin-spice loving, pinot grigio drinking, nice chick from the suburbs but don’t fuck with me bro.
Hell hath no fury like that of a wounded cat. Yeah I’m a Leo, what?
So this writing should really be another Public Service Announcement. To all those people out there faced with late-night knocks at their door from estranged ego-driven suitors, I have one message for you:
DON”T OPEN THE DOOR!!
Hide yo kids, hide yo wife, shut off the lights, draw the curtains, hide behind your couch, yell through that Ring doorbell “no one’s home, get the fuck out!” I don’t know, just do whatever you have to do.
Don’t make my mistake – not all doors should be opened.
Because it’s not opportunity knocking, it’s their ego along with your past and your own insecurities. All rap rap rapping at your door.
Might as well be Halloween because that stuff comes disguised as that romantic, end scene in the movies we all long to experience at least once in our life.
Newsflash – it’s not the happy ending you’re looking for (insert joke here). It’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
And not all wolves come dressed as sheep.
Sometimes they come dressed as sad, drenched puppy dogs.
Me and my puppy dog actually did run into each other 7 years after door-knock/Notebookesque night. (I’ve actually never seen the Notebook, I did see a rainy screenshot of it once. Be buried alive or forced to watch the Notebook…hmm?)
Yeah, me and door-knock guy did hook up again. Hey, I’m human! But this time, it was on my terms. It was happenstance. No ego involved. Just a random night. No proclamations, no soliloquies, no “sorries”. It was what it was, because I said so, on my own terms.
Gravel this mother fucker.
Me and my sister have always said, if you ignore boys, they always come crawling back.
I could give you a lot more instances to support this hypothesis but I won’t bore you, you get it. To be fair, yeah, maybe we were ignored first at times, but we didn’t gravel, beg, plead, send 1000 texts, or stalk people on social media. We just went our own way.
Ghost me? How ’bout go fuck yourself bro?
The boys’ egos made them come back. Men are different from boys.
Now I may be a self-described ice queen, but I do still have a heart, or the remnants of one at least. There are some sincere people out there, those who come crawling back because they genuinely feel bad for hurting your feelings and they really do just want to say “I’m sorry”.
These people exist, right? I mean there has to be at least one or two sincere people left in this world? C’mon, tell me I’m right…
Right?
RIGHT?!!!!
Damn. Crickets.
The more ego-driven Gravelers I run into, the less easy it is to believe in the sincere ones. Damn it, I almost said there that I have ”hope” that there are still sincere people in this world. Phew, caught myself before I said “hope”.
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Graveler.
Graveler who?
Oh you were waiting for a punchline? Nope, there is no punchline! That’s it, that’s the end. You’ll be the punchline though if you open that door. RUN!!!!!
But let me know if that person knocking was actually an endangered species known as the “sincere” person. I’m curious what one looks like.
❤️
CM
11/10/23
