Greetings fellow InterWeb-i-nerds~ 

Do I know how to write one of these?     No. 

Is this the first time I've ever engaged with reddit?    You-Betcha. 

Have I attempted to type this out maybe 6 times over the last few years (as it is ongoing) only to give up when they each ended up bloated with context that only I, and no one else, will feel is necessary (as this draft likely will too, sorry)?       Ya. bess. believe. it.

Yet here I am, trying to write the version that would make Jenny Craig proud. Everything I know about how these posts are supposed to go down, I've learned from the hardy vocalizations our friendly neighborhood Mr. Smosh-Man-Topp, and at times during his readings, commenters have given certain perspective altering clarity to a situation. It got me thinking, and hoping, that I might be able to find the same from you, all. So here goes. Buckle your buns:

I haveth an Ex, (as most of us do). We will call her Heather (F now 37ish) and I (M now 35ish). We grew up in adjacent circles of the same tiny town, connected after college, and found ourselves doing a stint in California. We did a lot of scary, hard things there for the first time, but we faced them together. I’ve tried to cut a lot of the fluff here, but suffice to say, there was a lot of love in those years. 

It was hard. At times we barely scraped by, but we had managed to break free from the death grip of our small home town, and follow a few humble dreams out to the west coast. We did our best to experience everything the world had to offer outside of our tiny second floor apartment window. We were happy, and we felt safe enough around each other to be the truest version of ourselves at the time, something that had been rare for me, and simply nonexistent for her. She even confided in me that she was bisexual, a secret to every other soul on earth, that I guarded fiercely until she eventually was ready to tell the world herself. I loved her for that moment of vulnerability which was always an incredibly difficult thing for her. I was proud that we had created such a safe space together. She had suffered through manipulators and was still mourning the sudden loss of her little sister a year+ earlier (IMPORTANT LATER). I was getting over a break up and a string of unfaithful partners.

Bottom line? I needed to feel wanted, and she wanted me. She wanted to be "saved", and at the time I was in the business of "saving". It had 'plane crash' written all over it, but we were too busy filling the holes left in each others hearts to see it. 

To be honest there was a lot of beauty, spontaneity, and laughter in those first 4+ years in Cali, where we were all the other had. But, (to slightly misquote a particular Avenger): "A thing is not beautiful simply because it lasts".  One day we got the call that told us we were needed back home (to care for respective family members who both separately and somewhat simultaneously fell very ill), We put the dreams on (what would in the end be an indefinite) hold, and spent the last of our savings to get back to our families. 

That is really where the plane began its gentle but inevitable nosedive. It took another 4 years, but the ground slowly come up at us. A gradual, torturous fall from cloud 9. There are a lot of reasons we broke up, and we very likely should have done so much sooner. She had always had an avoidant attachment style stemming from a step mother (IMPORTANT LATER) who was almost cliche in her wickedness. (Im talking "Got drunk and pulled a kitchen knife on Heather once” levels of batshit). 

I will own what parts I played in our fall. I was ignorant and lacked the vocabulary and experience to navigate our many issues, for one, but I also enabled her avoidance to “keep the peace” at the cost of my own mental health. Then as frustration built up, I would get angry (never at her directly, only ever at a punching bag in the basement, though I’m sure for a woman being even remotely close to that kind of frustrated aggression, it was likely scary to be around, especially given the violence in her past) until the tension would ease for a while and eventually the revolving door came around again. Repeat-Reuse-Resentment. 

 While I was surely flawed in how I went about it, every time I tried to face our demons together (like we had done with the scary/hard things  out west), I was stonewalled. I tried (even long prior to my punching bag phase) to come at those issues with the compassion and gentleness that I knew life had never afforded her, but through whatever and who-evers failings, it was not enough. The last two years we were strangers, being intimate only twice in that entire quarter of our relationship. Yea I see now it too lol. 

 I watched her run away from stillness with every vice at her disposal to avoid feeling her feelings. I was broken, diagnosed as severely depressed, suffering from severe burn out, and I left it all on the field, refusing to look back at this period and regret not trying harder. The Sunk Cost Fallacy at its absolute finest. 

Seeing the end in sight I suppose, but not willing to fully accept it yet, I guess I began to prepare to part ways to protect myself, while still trying to save it. She had been offered a job one state over (though unconfirmed* this might’ve been a lie to get me to move out). I could not afford to leave my job, so I started packing and selling and contemplating if 8 years of living together could survive the shift to long distance, with all that hung unresolved between us. Maybe the space would do us some good, I thought.

(THE TAPES) It was at this time that I began to ask about our tapes. (Those of you who have stayed with me this long, this is what you’ve waited for). You see Heather had small digital camera. She had it before we were together and we had used it during all of our adventures together. 

Every single and holiday event, small moment of joy, all of the time that we had experienced together for nearly ten years, was on that. one. single. device. (Back up your shit, folks).

I say “we” had used it, but really only I ever used it. She never wanted to record things and I always asked permission before using it, but she had never recorded a single thing on it and I saw it as a great tool to record our life.  I have always been the family historian and wanted those memories to look back on. Thats always been something that’s always been really important to me and I was grateful for her letting me use her camera, even if she never showed any sign of caring about it.

Part of why we never backed up the files on the camera was that it was difficult to get the files off. Neither of us are overly tech savvy and it required a particular chord and to offload the individual files which had to be offloaded one by one. The process was painstaking. It also required a charging cable which she had misplaced, so I could’ve even attempt to copy our memories until she found it. I offered to purchase a new one but she refused, saying it had to be around somewhere. I asked 4 times over as many months but burnt out and with the upheaval of my whole life to handle, I waited and just focused on more pressing things, figuring I would have the chance to ask again when things calmed down.

BOOM-

Fast forward and finally I moved out. Two weeks later, she breaks it off. She gives the excuse that “her therapist says she thinks she can’t focus on unpacking her traumas whilst in a relationship”. I didn’t know she was going to therapy and I suspect its a lie to give a reason to end things, but if it was true then I’m proud of her and happy she was seeking help. I don’t believe that “The Growing only happens on your own” ~Ben Platt, but I can only respect her choice, and wave goodbye to an era. Im blindsided, Im devastated, and Im relieved. It comes daily in waves, for months. I begin to rebuild the pieces of my life, and mourn the loss of the life I wanted to build with her. The plane finally impacts the ground, but I can only move forward.

SKETCHY SHIT AFOOT- This is where things get foggy. It would come to light shortly after, that around this time (and quite possibly some time before our break up), that another guy had entered the picture. There was never any confirmation of physical infidelity, because I honestly didn’t want to know, but when confronted she admitted to emotional infidelity of some degree, to which she apologized.

Truth be told, I don’t know that I cared as much as you might be expecting. I think I saw it as a sign that the chapter was fully closed, and having been in a torturous limbo for years, there was a relief in the clarity that it was done. There was only one thing remaining: The Tapes.

I asked three more times that year. Our contact had lessened (per my request as I thought space was the healthy and only option) so I the texts were spaced out a respectful amount, but the first two were met with silence. I began to wonder if she had ghosted completely, but she had known how much those videos meant to me and while distant, she was never cruel. BUT there’s MORE…:

If you recall, Heather had a late sister. You might also remember the Stabby Step Mother. Years prior (only months after her sisters death mind you), this knife wielding alcoholic psychopath had felt so insecure about Heathers Father having any kind of life before her, and how hard he was taking the death of his youngest child (as if thats somehow unreasonable), that she had thrown out every single one of Heathers Childhood Home videos. Every memory of her little sister was gone. Forever. 

One of the messages I sent her in the early months after our break up was the following (I have screenshots but idk how to upload them so I typed them out like a Boomer):

“Hey. I was hoping the home videos on your video camera could be made a significant priority in the very near future. Some of the most meaningful moments in the last decade of my life are stored on there. I’d like to have them somewhere accessible and safe…and I’m afraid that the longer its put off, the more likely they’ll be lost or destroyed. I know that you know how devastating that can be. Please let me know how I can help facilitate the process of their retrieval. I appreciate your help with this.”  ~Anon

This was met with silence, so some months later, after my frustration was building, I thought her history with her step mom/ home videos might be a reason for her hesitation in response, so I sent over this (again screen shot but no know how):

“Hello old friend-

I called last Friday and left a message to try and follow up on our short text exchange. It’s possible you’ve blocked me or there’s some other electronic issue with our phones but Im not sure how to get ahold of you in a productive way. 

This will be the 4th text I’ve sent since Jan regarding the holiday/home videos on your video camera. That number is part of the reason I was hoping for a quick phone call instead. Texting doesn’t really seem to find its mark for whatever reason.

Theres a decade’s worth of my life’s memories on that device. I have a hard time thinking of it as unreasonable to request access to them, but maybe I’m mistaken. Wrong or right, they are incredibly important to me, and I was hoping to collab with you and figure out a way to exchange that data.

If it’s weird we can find a way for me to pick up the camera at your moms place so we don’t even need to interact outside of planning the hand off, but I’d still need you to find the camera in your storage unit. I’ve been trying to make this happen before the data or the camera gets lost or damaged, deleted, or recorded over….Id be happy to copy the videos myself and return the camera as soon as Im done. Outside of finding it, you wouldn’t need to lift a finger. 

The videos include the last time I saw my great aunt, interviews with my grandparents, and many other personal family moments that I have no record of otherwise, as you know. Im aware that you know from experience how it feels to have someone throw out your memories so I’m sure you can relate to how precious they can be. If the hesitation stems from worry that I may not return them or the camera…I would simply hope that you had come to know my character better than that after all this time. 

I’d very much like your help in tying up this final loose end before the year it out. This request began long before we’d even parted ways and I would respectfully appreciate your assistance in sealing an already closed chapter, for both our sakes.” ~Anon

SUCCESS: This time, in October 2023, she finally replied:

“Hi Anon. I did get your text. I quite literally just pulled into my house with the last of my stuff from storage. The lack of getting you the home videos is not out of malice, I promise, simply that I didn’t know where they were. I have yet to unbox everything but as soon as I find the camera, I will let you know. I would hope you know I wouldn’t rob you of those, it was truly a matter of finally getting a place and getting all my stuff out to find them. I will reach out as soon as I find it.” ~ Heather

We texted a few more sentences back and forth, but satisfied with her answer, I let it be to give her time to follow through.

November 2023, she updates me:

“Hi. Sorry it’s early. Just wanted to let you know I found the camera. I will make an active effort to get those videos to you asap.” ~Heather

I write back my thanks, and to let me know her thoughts on how she might feel comfortable handling the hand off when she is ready. Then? Nothing.

That was nearly 2.5 years ago now. 

Fast forward again. Its 2025 and (Aside the world being a searing fucking fire-ball-pit of inflated drunk vomiting possums, gorged on skittles and your mothers favorite depression medication) I couldn’t be happier lol I have sweat mountains with the amount of effort I’ve put into working on myself and my own shortcomings, and have been lucky enough to find an absolutely incredible partner who is willing to have the tough conversations without running away from them. Together we are raising her 5 year old, and a Great Dane, and well, let me just say that I’m currently carving a ring out of a huge sea shell she brought me when she was teaching me to scuba dive on a ship wreck for the first time in Hawaii (she owns a dive shop and Im an artist). Heather in the grand scheme of it all, felt like the finish line at one point, but it turns out she was a stepping stone. I would close that chapter 1000 times over, knowing it would get me here.

The last I heard she met (maybe it was the same dude?) someone with two young girls, bought a house with him and had a little girl of their own within a year and a half of our parting ways. Is it quick? Sure. But truly as hard as that period was, I bear her and them no ill will. Her family was in tatters after her sisters passing, and the birth of their little one breathed new life into all of her relatives. There is nothing but goodness there and I’ve never wanted anything less than that for her. Her pregnancy is part of why I’ve let so much time pass, out of respect for her new family and the difficulties that come with welcoming a new kid into your life and-idk- making a human with your fucking body. Shits gotta be hard as hell, and not just physically.

SO- I’ve given you this insane amount of context (and lets face it, embraced my long-windedness at this point) to paint as human a picture as I can and show you that we both tried, and that I really don’t have any hard feelings toward her. When I recently decided I would try (I have in fact decided that Im going to go through with it) to contact Heather again and give it one last try, I brought the idea up with my therapist. I was afraid I was insane or that it was somehow toxic of me to attempt it, but my therapist gave me the green light and said she thought it was perfectly reasonable a request despite the time that has elapsed.

Now lets be clear cuz I know you all are wondering. No. There are no sex tapes, or adult/explicit content on the camera in question. Even if we had made some (we didn’t) I would never ask as ex for access to material like that, nor would I want it. That camera has my last interactions with family members who have since passed away. 8 Christmases, 8 Thanksgivings, 8 years of gatherings with friends, and 8 years worth of trips to places I’ll never go back to. Im only 35. Thats nearly a quarter of my life on that camera (Again back.your.shit.up.)

What do you think Reddit? Am I crazy for trying again? What do you think is the best way to go about it? What do I say? And how should I go about preparing myself for what is a non-zero chance, that those memories are lost to me forever? Thank you for riding this train with me. I appreciate any and all suggestions and I will try to update this when and if something comes of my attempt. Fuck this was long. Sorry. Be well.

-Anon