The Day I Realized I No Longer Hate You.

I saw someone named their baby your name today. I looked it up, to remember what it means. When I came back to my computer hours later the search was still there, the tab was still open. And I did something I haven’t done in years – I googled you.

I came across your Instagram. Full of the weird and less weird things I remember you liking. Girls with fire. Horror movie shots. Cats. And then I saw it. Pictures of you and someone new. Bae, you called her.

I took a look at your travels, your snapshots, your selfies. And suddenly I smiled. I hope you make her happy. I hope you treat her well. I hope that whatever led you to hurt me so badly has been purged from you, outgrown with maturity, and managed with medication, or 12 step, or whatever kind of help that’s out there that you need.

Because I realized something when I smiled: I don’t hate you anymore.

There was a time I did, and I don’t consciously remember when it ended. There was the time I found your things among mine, and donated them to a homeless shelter. A time when your mother mailed me some of my belongings, along with a nice note that congratulated me on my college graduation and mentioned that while she wasn’t sure what had happened, she was sorry she wouldn’t be seeing me anymore. There was the time that somehow I came across her obituary, and sent you and your father and brother a silent prayer. The time you reached out to me asking to get together so you could “apologize” but blaming me too in the same email. I never responded.

But today is the day I realized that there is no part of you left in me. No nostalgia, no hurt, and no anger. Even most of the memories have faded. It’s been more than a dozen years, and there are a few pieces of me you had and couldn’t give back, but the only part of me you’re part of is the past.

I was lucky to find someone nicer. Trustworthy. Honest to a fault. Someone who asked my opinion, and looked me in the eyes, and tried to see my world through them. Someone who challenges me, and cuddles me, and raises our beloved dog by my side.

She’s cute, your Bae. She has kind eyes and a full figure, and a small gap between her front teeth like mine when she smiles big. I hope that the similarities end there.  I hope you make her smile big.  I hope you never hurt her, never cause her to distrust you, never break her confidence. I hope you keep wearing matching sweaters and cuddling with your cats and taking selfies. That the words you tell her are the truth. That you’re honest about who you see, and where you go, and who you do.

You hurt me, but the wounds have healed and the scars are so small I barely notice them anymore. You are no longer part of me, and that makes me happy. I hope you’re happy, too.

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