A hole is a hole

I'm dreaming of my ex again

I’m on a redeye flight from Los Angeles back to New York. It’s 3AM and I can’t sleep. The chairs are more uncomfortable than they usually are, and they’ve turned the lights to a light blue instead of just turning them off all the way. Who can sleep like that? I can’t sleep like that.

I’ve started dreaming about my ex. I ran into him (again) a few weeks ago. The universe has a funny (not funny?) way of continually having us bump into each other. Maybe it’s not the universe, maybe South Brooklyn is just small. In that case, the best thing would be for him to move out of New York. The second best thing would be for him to die.

The randomly-running-into-each-other thing lost its novelty about three run-ins ago, but the significance of the last run-in was that it came up that he’s seeing someone now, with the caveat that “it’s not serious or anything.” Our relationship ended because he had multiple affairs, none of which were “serious or anything” – so I don’t think that caveat could adequately soften the blow.

It’s fine, though. I figured he would find someone by the summer. That’s the thing about men obsessed with sex, they see women as holes to fill. A hole is not a hard thing to replace. A hole is a hole. My guess is it’s a coworker or someone that vaguely runs in my circle, that seemed to be his type when it came to mistresses – his preferred holes to fill, so to speak. If I’m wrong, then that’s fabulous. He’s expanding his horizons of holes.

Anyways, these dreams. He’s there, obviously. I’m always trying to “get to the bottom” of something. By the end of the dream, sometimes I figure it out and sometimes I don’t. Either way, I wake up unsatisfied. This was the reality of trying to stay together after I found out about his infidelity, and that’s a big part of why I couldn’t do it. I was perpetually trying to get to the bottom of something – because there was always something left to uncover – and it was deeply unsatisfying by the end of it. Who can live like that? I can’t live like that.

I decided to fight for stasis instead. It took a long time, but I think I've finally found it. Even with the dreams, I feel steady. I don’t feel this giant hole in my life anymore. I’ve built a life full of people and things I love. I come home on Wednesdays to my best friend on my couch ready to watch our favorite show and scream at the TV together. I go to sleep surrounded by the books that mean everything to me. I dance with strangers in Manhattan studios. I open my fridge covered in handwritten notes and photos of my favorite people. I wring my fists at my colleagues’ lack of attention to detail because my brain is huge. I flirt with Brits online. I walk around naked in my apartment with the curtains open because I can.

Whatever. These are just words. He subscribes to this newsletter. He won’t see it. He doesn’t actually read.