I had planned on relaxing last night and actually sleeping. Welp. That didn’t happen.
Every Friday night, I check Fogg’s surgical area for “fingers”–nebulous, nondescript tumors. Things that just shouldn’t be there. If her fibrosarcoma is going to make a comeback, it’ll be in the same area. Every week, I hold my breath and explore her now firm, furry body–noting any changes, mentally. Up until last night, I avoided touching the incision line–figuring I might feel scabs or things that I shouldn’t worry about. But her scabs are finally gone now, and it was time to start checking–since that area could be a place where the tumor could come back.
I felt nothing outside of the incision and then made my way from the beginning–on her tail–immediately feeling a very small, hard lump right on the tail’s incision line. I freaked out. For a minute. And then touched it again. It felt like a tiny version of the mast cell tumor that started all of this. I called the roommate–talking out loud–thinking maybe it’s scar tissue. It’s not a finger. He felt like I should wait and see if it changes. I asked him if he thought I should email our vet. He said to do what I felt was necessary. I asked him these things because I tend to overreact and rush to the worst case scenario. I opened my laptop to add this to my Fogg Log–and to email the vet–wanting to describe it perfectly. That’s when I noticed a smaller one, just down from the original one on the incision line. It was hard and round as well. I kept moving along the incision line and felt even more. This actually comforted me. Because this meant it might actually be scar tissue. The lumps stopped once I got to the mid-point of the incision…which, to me, pointed to it being a development related to Fogg’s tail. I could feel the muscles moving as she swished back and forth. It made sense that maybe denser scar tissue had formed–or maybe there were internal stitches. I wasn’t completely sure about that. So I emailed…knowing my mind would race all night long. And it did. At 5 am, I got up…fed the cats, cleaned, and edited photos.
And now, I wait. The problem with all of this is that Fogg can’t have a fine needle aspiration anymore. Such a thing could invite a recurrence in her. Doing that on her mast cell tumor originally may have been what brought on the fibrosarcoma since it didn’t appear until after that. She can only have IVs…nothing with needles. So, to know for sure, for sure, we’d have to do another surgery. And I just don’t want to put her through that now. Not this soon–not after almost losing her. But waiting, even a little bit, is not the thing to do either.
I really think it’s scar tissue. But I’m realizing this whole chapter of our lives together will probably never really end. And that is frustrating and scary. And my heart can’t take it.
The last few days have made me think a lot about things. About boundaries, mostly, and patterns in my life. And ways I need to cope with all of it.
I’ve been an emotion-driven person this entire week–finding it hard to focus–finding myself riding the tides of whatever happened that day.
I don’t like all this feeling. Especially when it comes with so much anger and triggering bullshit I can’t seem to control.
Things are status quo with the near miss…as they should be and as they need to be. I am keeping my distance. He is keeping his distance too. Though we have talked more this week than we have in the last month.
I cleared the air with the last guy–taking the high road and forgiving him–attempting almost immediately to be friends. And that has been awkward and weird–given he wants to talk about this other person with me. In a limited way, of course. But I feel like I’m being used, and I feel like the friendship is not real–as much as I am trying to be normal.
This morning, I made a decision.
The decision was one based in self-care–and is one I’ve usually made with every single ex (though he isn’t really an ex since we technically weren’t together).
I’ve decided to delete our conversations. I’ve decided not to text or call or email him. I’ve decided not to hang out with him. If he contacts me, I will be friendly–treating him like a married male friend. Surface. Brief. Not disappearing as I normally have, but not engaging. The boundaries here are too murky, and it’s too much too soon.
I could talk to him about it–as I did the other day–but I’m not built to discuss things like this without having too many emotions come in that will come across as hurtful or whatever. I need the space for a reason. The reason being that I need to process the bullshit and figure out what’s okay for me now.
It kind of pains me to need this. But I’ve realized my mistake with exes has been trying to be friends immediately. Granted, this was a short thing. But when you’re considering being with someone–or when you’ve been with someone for a while–you change to fit them. Things become routine. Boundaries get stepped on. It maybe isn’t healthy, and it’s too easy to slip back into what was.
It’s hard for me because I am a pretty forgiving person, and if someone was important to me, I have a hard time releasing them even if it’s just for a month or two. I figure I can be mature. I won’t be mean. I won’t let the past ruin our ability to be in each other’s lives.
But that’s a mistake. Because trying to be friends when you’re not actually friends anymore can ruin all ability to be friends. That’s what has happened in the past. To the point that I actively shoved them out of my life just to move on and be happy again. I never intended to disappear forever. But withdrawing tends to do that. It’s harder to bridge things when enough time has gone by. And that’s probably why I’m not friends with most of my exes. The ones I am friends with never betrayed me, and the feelings weren’t that strong.
I had to ask myself today–Am I okay with letting this person go altogether? I am. I mean I like him. But my sanity and peace is worth more to me than him being in my life.
And like all of my exes, if he really wants to be friends a year from now, he knows how to find me. I’d be open to it then. Only because I know–even with people I majorly loved–I don’t hold grudges or feel shitty years down the road. I’ve forgiven all of them and would not have an issue trying to be friends now. I just needed a little time and space. It helps a lot that I’m a lot healthier emotionally than I was years ago, when I knew them. At the same time, though, I’m not going to reach out and try to forge some friendship later. Without knowing their feelings, to me, that’s a silly thing to do and not worth the worry.
I see a lot of roadblocks with this person anyway, and I’m sure he’d be challenging to me–even as just a friend. Challenging is fine, sometimes, but I’m not sure how much work I want to make toward someone who has betrayed my trust and kinda acted like an ass.