I’ll be frank, I’m missing him tonight, and today. But I will just miss him. Because….
- He would just ignore contact from me, while getting his narcissistic supply.
- My son would kill me, and then I would kill me for being so weak.
- He’s most likely with B, trying to convince her that he loves her and has changed, and she’s trying to believe him. That needs to come to it’s own conclusion. I keep thinking at some point she will see that a man who tries to bed the same woman who caused her to leave him in the first place, within days of her leaving, doesn’t love her. Or anyone. Except himself. And that’s a pretty shallow love.
- He hasn’t changed. He would use me when it was convenient for him, he would throw me under the bus when it was not. Funny, B said to me that I’ve changed him. I wanted to laugh. Yes, I taught him he wasn’t devious enough not to get caught. At least, not devious enough not to get caught by me. He still lies. 2 Weeks ago, 10 voice mails, at least 3 or 4 of them (I didn’t listen to all of them) almost begging to come over, and sit on the deck with me, and talk, or stargaze. Code for going upstairs after and having sex. Later in a text, after I said NO, he said he was joking. I said, No, Scott, you were not. I have the voice mails. Lies, lies, lies. He still can’t stand in his story. He still hustles for his worthiness with everyone he knows. Even still me, when I can see right through him. Right through to the soul he denies he has.
- Funny, the only thing I ever tried to teach him was that he had value, was worthy of love, just because he exists. He chooses not to learn that lesson. He continues on the path of self-destruction.
So, like I told him, when he messaged me through the blog that is now private, from me, lol, since I was the only one who read his 2 1-sentence blogs, “It’s easier to miss you than to be with you.” It’s easier for me to love him than to hate him. But it’s also easier never to see him, than to give him another chance to turn my life inside out.
And then again, when I spell it out to myself, like this, I don’t miss him anymore. He can’t hurt me from here. And even less so when I finally get moved into my new home. I look forward to that day.
I’ll lay in the hot steamy Florida sunshine, and let the tropical air sweat the last remnants of him out of me. And when I am cleansed, I’ll open the door, and let real love come into my life. Like he’s never dreamed of, like he’ll never have, like he could never give.
Love and light, all.