15 Minutes

alone

I don’t drink much.  If I do, it’s usually wine, and I vacillate between white and red, and usually a glass is plenty.  Sometimes a 2nd one, but more often than not, I can’t finish a 2nd glass.  But tonight….I wanted something to take the edge of my nerves, which are frayed to a fine, gossamer filament which could break any moment.  But not wine.  Wine would sour my stomach tonight.

I’m picky tonight. Holding on…..just holding on.  As someone said to me once, just for the next 15 minutes.  I need some help.  I would like to be numbed, just a little.  Enough to round the sharp corners in my psyche, in my heart.  Not enough to open the floodgates.

It’s a fine line.  I have to be vigilant.

My liquor cabinet (which is a box on the floor of my pantry) has in it a half bottle, half a 5th, (what’s that?  A 10th?) of Gosling’s Dark Rum, and a bottle of Amaretto, which I buy every year to make a raspberry Amaretto sauce for my Christmas cake, and maybe a shot or two of Vodka, which I keep here for my BFF.

Not a lot of choices.

So….I took a small glass, like a juice glass, and put what looked like maybe a shot of amaretto in it, and a shot of rum.  Of course, I could be totally off, I don’t have a shot glass.  I had one.  Just one.  And my son somehow managed to get it into the garbage disposal and I didn’t know it, and turned the disposal on.

He’s lucky my friend’s son knew how to take the disposal apart.  I paid him $50.

So, I guess now, if I need to measure.  Not that it mattered, I was only serving myself, a made up drink.  Because rum is not that easy to drink by itself, even on ice, and even rich dark rum from the royal Navy, and Amaretto is too sweet by itself.  Combined, it’s not really too bad.  And I couldn’t do Vodka straight no matter how much I needed a drink.

I think it will do what I need it to.

And first I took two ibuprofen for the massive headache I have.  I’m not sure that two was enough.  I’m thinking another one might be in order.

It will be a ride, this one.  Hope it doesn’t last too long.

Choices

I had an unusual conversation with A last night.  He had taken a “good morning” pic of himself in his bathrobe, and said something like “Good morning sweet Deb” or something, but sent it to the woman who he’s been seeing in Santa Fe by mistake.  It was not risque, it’s something he does every day.  But, of course, it did not make her happy…..

I felt bad for her, really, and for him.  He likes her, and I’m sure it would be hard for her to understand our intimate but non-sexual relationship.  I asked him about the other woman up in Michigan, and he said she was off with her “other” boyfriend.   He’s thinking he’s not going to try to be monogamous.   The woman in Michigan is obviously not, the woman in Santa Fe obviously wants to be, but apparently that picture ended it between them.

I told A I could never NOT be monogamous, I can’t do casual sex.  I said, “S would have been happy if I could have done it.”  LOL.  Personally, I don’t see A as the casual sex type, and in fact, I’m pretty sure if I agreed to have a relationship with him that way, he would be completely faithful to me.  I think if he falls in love again, he will be monogamous.  I think he’s just craving affection right now, reacting to the fact that I had to shut down the plans to get together over Christmas.  I know I broke his tender heart again.  I had to be honest.  Maybe it was too soon for me, but I think it was just chemistry.  I have tried before to feel passion for him, and I sometimes feel it but it never lasts.  I want to feel it for someone like I did for S, every day, every moment.  I want to be enough for the person I feel like that about, and he will be enough for me.

I don’t want to share, I don’t do it.  Don’t want to even know how to do it.  S once told me I can change myself so I’m not so jealous.  I said, I don’t want to…..I see no benefit in it.  S felt every relationship was different, what he had with one person he could never have with another, so he wasn’t sharing.   No, except his body.  His intimacy.  Probably his thoughts and feelings.  The things that make a relationship special, and wonderful, to have one person who knows you and cares for you, and has your back.

Nope, not interested in multiple partners.

But the difference between A and S is that A will tell a woman up front, that she is not the only one.  He won’t pretend to two women that they are the only ones, and then do what he wants, the way S did.  A will give a woman a choice first, if she wants to be with him when he might be with someone else.  Neither me or Betty was given that choice, we were taken by deception.

A can stand in his truth and be himself, and own his story.  S cannot.

A has never been anything but monogamous.  I don’t think this choice will last for him anyway.  I think he’s just looking for affection til he finds love.

Interesting, though.  To compare A’s telling me this, honestly, and S playing me (and Betty) for the same end.  I wish he’d been honest with me.  That’s all.  So I could have chosen to have done what I did with  him, knowing the truth, or chosen not to.  But he took my choice away with lies and deception.  We cannot even be friends now, the truth would have at least salvaged a friendship.  It’s too bad that he chose that road.  It’s too bad that he still has not owned it, at least with me.

He will say he has.  He said he will pay 5 lifetimes for what he did to me.  But that statement is about him….how it affects him.  It has nothing to do with acknowledging how it affected me.  It is about how he will pay, not about how I already paid the price for loving him so much.  He’s sorry because he will have to pay.  He’s not sorry that I had to deal with lies and betrayal by someone I completely adored.  He can’t feel my pain, he can only feel his own.  I would guess he feels his own pain with Betty too, but I doubt that he can feel the real pain that he caused her with is lies and deception too.

I have managed to pick myself up, on my own.  To take the hand of the universe, and my friends, and stand back up, dust myself off, bandage and care for my own wounds.  S caused utter devastation and walked away from it, uncaring, unfeeling.  Truth be told he did that with Betty too.  He called her on the phone to tell her, he couldn’t go to her house and face her pain. I told him to go sit with her while she read the hard truths in my letter to her, and face her pain, and deal with it. To let her see him deal with it.  But he didn’t.  He left her alone, to deal with it by herself, as he did me once the truth came out.

At least he treated us equally.

Any way, my feeling is when you choose not to be monogamous, especially physically, you open the door to pain and hurt.  At least, you have to be like A and say it up front, and let someone have free will and choice in whether or not they wish to be with you.  I would always choose not to be with someone who was with other women.  Always.  I should have been given that choice with S.

 

Random Memories Wreaking Havoc

Warning:  This is pretty raw……

Today was difficult.  I had that random rogue wave memory hit me today, while I was working.  (See last blog)  I had to go to the ladies room to keep from crying at my desk.  I just don’t understand the mentality.

When he did the prison whore, he called me two days later and couldn’t wait to tell me.  He didn’t want the weight of it on him.  He said “I did something and it’s gonna hurt.”  But he still had to tell me.  He had to do the right thing.  That was February.

In May, he had me over to his house on a Sunday.  Not of course, Saturday night.  I had been there in April, a couple weeks before, the night his friend died. (I had been sitting at home, and was overcome with a feeling from him…I called and asked if he was ok.  He said “funny you should ask.   Gus died last night.”  I was there in a few hours.  He was sad….really sad. But Ok.)  I didn’t think anything of the fact that I hadn’t been with him the night before, now two weeks or so later.  He’d had the memorial service for his friend the day/night before. I got there late morning, I think.  We made love, we were sitting naked, he on his couch and me in one of his recliners, and he told me he was thinking maybe we didn’t need to see each other every weekend.  I remember saying, “I think I want to get dressed.”

He was most likely in her bed the night before, or maybe she had been there and left.  More likely he was at her house…which is why I was not at his house the night before.  I think Saturday that weekend he might have gone to the memorial get together for his friend who died.  I bet she went with him.  She knew the friend too.  I think they first connected when she commented on his picture on FB.  Maybe he even called her to tell her. Since she wasn’t really married……  Maybe he spent the night with her.  Maybe their first night together again.  Maybe not.  Maybe he came home and texted me about it. I can’t remember, it was 7 months ago.  But I’m sure he started seeing her then.  And then he had me over Sunday.

He just said he wanted to focus on himself, on his house, his yardwork, he’d been in a relationship for all his life, he wanted to see what it was like alone…..He still wanted to see me, just not as often for awhile.

Because he had her now.

(This is only a rough timeline.  I didn’t always write about it when I was with him, apparently.  I know I was the weekend of March 30.  I know that was not the last time I was at his house, so I think this is approximately right.)

But he didn’t respect me or his relationship with her enough to tell me the truth.  He could tell me the truth about Samantha the prison whore, but not Betty.  He couldn’t tell me the truth about her until I was ready to come down there and find her there. He disregarded everything either of us ever said to him about not wanting any part of a relationship like that.

All summer he tried to get me to be part of an intense physical relationship, but nothing else.  Because we had a great physical relationship.  When I began to realize that’s what he wanted, I told him to let me go.  Not to come see me if he didn’t want to stay.  A couple of times he spent the night, I don’t know how that worked with her, that I got him on a Saturday night.  Maybe they were fighting.  Maybe she went away.  Maybe he lied to her.  Who the hell knows?  But he gave me just enough to hold on.

Now I get why in early May he was excited to go to Florida with me in early June and suddenly did a 180° turn.  I knew something was up then, but I couldn’t figure it out.  I was angry about it though.  He’d found cheap tickets for us, we’d talked about what we’d do…etc. He was going to rent a car so we could fly into Tampa and then he’d have a car while I visited my mom.  And suddenly he wouldn’t go.  Broke my heart then.  And I got over it, because I fucking loved him.

Sometimes I’d agree, “if that’s the only way I can see you then ok….”  More and more often the answer became “…..Let me go if that’s what you want.  It’s not what I want.”  He wouldn’t do that either.   I’d say, “You wanting to find yourself and be alone is fine, but it doesn’t mean I’m sitting in the wings waiting for you whenever you get the urge.  If you want to be alone, then be alone.”

Of course, he wasn’t, alone. He had her.  But he wouldn’t say so.  He wanted us both, hanging around.  I could see him anytime from Sunday afternoon til Saturday morning.  He could easily, apparently, go from her bed to mine, or mine to hers.

I remember the day of the eclipse, end of September, Sunday night of the weekend before he dropped his bomb.  We were texting…I was telling him that the reason our sex life was so good was because I loved him so much.  That I couldn’t even participate if I didn’t love him.  He suddenly seemed to hear me….he was going to come here and watch the eclipse.  He was getting ready to leave and fell down his stairs and couldn’t move.  He was laying on the floor on his back.  He had been half-thinking of spending the night because I can go into work late on Monday.

And then he couldn’t come.  I think that was true…He had been planning to leave when he called me me from the floor.  She wouldn’t have been around on a Sunday night, and never would have known if he came over and spent the night.

So we sat on our own decks and watched it, texting occasionally.  We both saw the same shooting star.  We texted all week from early in the morning til we went to bed.  During work. During lunch.   Close, intimate, sweet, sexy.

Right up til we went to bed Friday night.  I felt he heard and understood me for the first time in ages.  I felt close…he said he did too.  He texted me at 4 AM when he woke up “for no reason”.   Turns out for plenty of reason. At 10:30 he texted me that he was going to be with her.

Set up.  So set up.  So set up all summer for him to devastate me.  At the moment I loved him the most, he brought me down, he crushed me.

I’ve been pretty good lately.  It doesn’t hurt much anymore.  Angers me more than hurts.   But today, all these random memories from last spring have been just barging into my mind, not knocking at the door, not ringing the doorbell, not asking if they could come in. Slapping my face, ripping open scars, spitting in my face.

All that time.  He could tell me about the prison whore, who meant nothing to him.  But he couldn’t tell me about Betty, who he claims now, he loved.  He couldn’t even honor her by telling me the truth.  He couldn’t respect her wishes.   He couldn’t honor me or respect me and my wishes.  What did I do to deserve that?  I loved him so much, I was always there for him.  I asked very little of him.  Whatever he wanted.  We had fun together, we played, we flirted, but for me…it was always within the confines of just us.  It was just two people who cared for each other being intimate.

I want to get back to forgiveness.  I’m happier there, but tonight I’m hurting.  It won’t take so long, it won’t hurt as deep this time but it hurts.  He’ll read this, and he’ll hide away from me.  What does he care, he didn’t care for those 6 months.  He’s probably hiding from Betty too.  Why should he wonder if the women whose lives he ripped up for his own pleasure are ok?  He can’t do anything about it, but if it was me, I’d still want to know that they were not still laying on the ground bleeding.

I know he’s a sick man.  I mean, mentally ill, to do this to anyone.  I also know he’s not going to do anything about it.  He’s not going to face his demons, he’s going to let them have free rein.  He’s going to go to his grave believing that he was hurt by all this.  All this that he created, and he set up, and he caused with his lies and deception to feed his own ego.  Eventually, I’ll feel sorry for him. Eventually.

Not tonight.  Tonight, I’d like to know that he feels the depth of my pain.  Tonight I’d like to know he has even a modicum of remorse for the way he shattered me, and left me lying there in pieces.  Tonight I’d like to know that it all meant something to him, something more than great sex.  I wonder if he knows how much audacity he had to ask me to help him with Betty, after he ripped my heart out and chewed it up and spit it out in a bloody mess.  He wanted me to help him deal with the lies and deception of another woman, without any consideration as to what those lies and deception did to me.  As if I should just understand, because he didn’t love me, he loved her.  As if that somehow made my pain less intense.  You’d be hard pressed to make me believe he loved anyone but himself.  Playing two women all summer, lying to them both, deceiving them both.  That’s not love S.  That’s self gratification, like jerking off.  One was an old fuck, one was a new one.  But we were both just a fuck for you.  We both know it.

I know I’ll never get what I wish I’d gotten even a little of.  I’m left to dry my own tears, and put my own self back together, and start walking again, away from him, toward a new life.

 

 

 

Tying Up The Loose Ends

I slept 7 hours last night, the first time all week I’ve gotten a decent night’s sleep.  I was at peace finally.  The truth is on the table and now can be dealt with by the universe and the people involved.  I can go on with my life and know I did the right thing.

I always told S when he was breaking up with me, which happened in 18 months a few times, that it would hurt, but I was strong and would get over it.  I always knew I would.  He said, “You aren’t strong.  You crumble like a little girl.”  He was the one who crumbled, when I said ok, go….he never could.  He could never walk away.  He still can’t.

Although I did crumble. But I could also put myself back together.  I knew what to do, how to do it.  I guess my ex gave me practiced.  When I found out about Betty, I didn’t think I’d be able to put myself back together.  I have never hurt so much in my life.  It was his cruelty in the way he told me, not that he wanted to be with her.  It was his callous disregard for the way I loved him. But  just over 6 weeks later, I have myself almost back together.

I bet that S has changed his mind about whether or not I am strong now.

My biggest problem going forward will be sensing his feelings, sensing what is going on with him.  I still have no explanation as to why I do this, but there have always been people with whom I can do this.

The first time was when my ex and I were about 30.  We lived on a lake, and our neighbor kid who was about 20,used to go water skiing with us a lot, often we’d have him over to eat after.  One day we came home from a trip, and he came over.  He was in the living room talking to my ex, I was in the kitchen.  I began shaking, literally.  I sensed some really dark horrible energy, and I wasn’t into energy work at all.  I called him into the kitchen, and told him, “I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to get him out of the house, NOW. ”  My ex didn’t argue, he just did it.

Six months later, the kid went down the street, and killed an old woman and stole her car.

It still creeps me out.

I tend to listen to these messages, and will continue.  If I determine they are warnings to me, I will act.  Otherwise, I’ll let them go.  A psychic told me that S was sucking my energy dry, that I didn’t have to do anything about the vibe I got from him, I got them because I am an empath. And that I needed to turn the energy in on myself.

This will be my aim going forward.  To do what is right for me, and to let go the vibes I get from S.  And anyone else they come from.  I told her I thought I knew him in a past life, she said that could well be true.

I was so relieved to hear that I was not expected to deal with the crazy info that I would get at random times.

I have a gong bath tonight, perfect timing.  I am so grateful to wake up to no drama today, the drama is all over in his corner, and it’s what he loves.  He feels most loved when someone is crying over him.  Lord knows he did it enough with me, and while I was crying he would make me laugh, hard, endearing himself to me.

He told that every woman in his life has hurt him.  I thought, I won’t join that club. I loved him so much, beyond reason, without limit.  As it turns out, I’m sure in his mind I hurt him.  Badly.  I don’t expect he will ever take ownership of this story.

If he was smart, he would take this whole episode as a gift, as the gift of ruin, as rock bottom emotionally, and begin to transform into someone he could be proud of, that could love himself, and others with his whole heart.  He would direct this energy inward, and do some real soul-searching to figure out why he finds it so necessary to manipulate people.  It was, really, an act of love, to make him accountable for his actions, even though he will never see it that way.

I don’t think he will ever get that.

If he’s smart, he will use this time to do what he told me he wanted to do all summer when he made up this story so he could be with Betty every weekend.  Be alone, learn to be alone.  Learn who he is, and change what he doesn’t like.  Discover his passions, figure out what he wants for the rest of his life.  I hope he does this.

But it’s not my problem anymore.  I’m running to the light.  I’m tying up the loose ends of my emotions around this, and connecting all the dots, and every minute I feel better and more distant from all the chaos of the last few months.

I can look at S, as someone I loved, I can feel the same detached sorrow for him as I do for my ex.  A detached sorrow, that he feels so unlovable, that he has to lie and manipulate people into his life. He has done it so much that he just lies as a way of life, just like my ex.  As far as me….he had me at hello.  He just couldn’t believe it.  I bet it was that way that way for Betty too.

Onward….onward.

 

 

 

Betty’s Betrayal

I’m home with a glass of cabernet.  My God, the drama today.  S is the world’s biggest drama queen.  Geezus.

Once the drama was over for the afternoon, I thought about all the lies that I had been told.  One stood out to me this afternoon.

You may remember back in September S told me that Betty Boop was back in his life on a Friday night.  Then he proceeded to convince me he just meant that they talked, that’s all they had done.  He sent me a picture of him on his bed alone.  He texted me on Sunday or Monday (it might have been Labor Day weekend) and said he wanted to come up here.  I told him I didn’t want to see him, he’d been with her all weekend.  I had cried the whole weekend. Hadn’t slept or ate. Thank God for my friends and my blog.   Thinking of her in my place in his bed, at the breakfast place we used to go to.  Just cried and cried a river.

He kept saying they just talked.  “Thanks for telling me I was with her.  We just talked.”  Two days later I was having a panic attack, and I texted him “You better get up here before I lose my mind.”  He was here when I got home.  We made love, and after he said to me, “I’m so disappointed that you would think that I would just jump back into a relationship with her after what she did to me.”

I said, your voice mails all said that it’s all you ever wanted, you just wanted me to be happy for you.  He said, I wanted you to be happy.  It was YOUR happiness, that’s all I wanted was for YOU to be happy.

I believed  him, I cried and cried again, and he held me.  So we continued on for another month.

And all the while he had been with her all weekend, all summer.

His lies were so convincing.

I was thinking of writing a blog listing his lies.  But there are too many, and the endeavor would make me sick.  Pathological.

Sometimes I wonder how many other women there were, besides me and Betty Boop.

Not that I care now.

But I feel sorry for her tonight.  She got blindsided by him, just like me.  I know exactly where she is, but she’s worse because he told her he loved her. They have a long history.  And she found out this week he’s been with someone else the entire time they were back together.

Even today, when I talked to him on the phone, he told me he misses me a lot.  I said, “if you love her you shouldn’t even be talking to me!!!!  WTF is wrong with you????”  I felt like, what are you doing?  Trying to hedge your bets in case she won’t take you back? Geezus, as if I’d go within a mile of someone that could look you in the eye and lie like that.

He’s cruel.  He loves her?  He loves what she does for him, just like he loved what I did for him.  But love her? He can’t even face her pain.

If I didn’t put a stop to this, it would still be going on, behind her back. I could not have lived with myself if I let that happen when I had the power to stop it.  I was having a hard time as it was, staying silent, when I thought the first weekend they were together was the one where we broke up.  He swore, over and over, he wasn’t seeing her before.

He lied to me, he lied to her.  He denied the relationship with her to me.  And he hid the one with me to her.  To be denied by the man you love is it’s own betrayal.

For his own pleasure.  He did it for his own pleasure.

I feel so sorry for Betty.  I have been there.  I have loved that man with every fiber of my being, and he knew it. When we first broke up I didn’t think I could ever love anyone that intensely again.   And I’m guessing she feels that way too.  I hope she doesn’t hate me.  I hope she’ll be ok.

It’s all over for me.  The nightmare is over.  But for her it’s just beginning.  I hope she’s strong enough.

Peace out.

 

 

 

 

It Wasn’t Revenge

He thinks it was revenge.  Revenge for breaking my heart.  Does he not know that a broken heart stems from love?  Does he not know me at all after all this time?

He said he will never forgive me. I said “why would I care if you forgave me?”

It us only important whether or not I could have forgiven myself for standing by, watching, an not doing anything to prevent any more heartache. 

It was for her.  It was because I saw someone getting the crap beat out of them every day, by a lie they were unaware of that was growing daily.  How do you stand by, when you see someone getting set up for the kill, against their own wishes, and do nothing?

It was for her Scott.  It wasn’t about you.

You devastate me, and then wouldn’t let me go.

As the weeks went on, I saw what you were doing to her.  You were still telling me you didn’t want a loving relationship. She obviously thought she was in one.  She had no idea, none, that daily you were laughing inside, as you tried to get me to see you Sundays, Wednesdays.  And if it wasn’t me, because it wasn’t, soon enough it would have been Samantha, or someone. Because you don’t know why you can’t have whoever you want whenever you want.

Your dream, to have a different woman every night of the week.  Your fantasy.

Her fantasy and mine, to have a man who loved them, and was faithful to them, and building something that bordered on miraculous.

It was for her.  I couldn’t stand by and watch you play with someone else the way you did with me.  I couldn’t watch as you set someone else up for a fatal blow at a time of your choosing.  You know I cannot remain silent, and watch someone get hurt. If you don’t know that about me, it’s because you didn’t pay any attention, you just took what you could from me.

I told you, if you want to be loved, then be lovable. Your actions are not separate from the person that you are, they are a physical manifestation of who you are.

Who you are, right now, is not lovable, because you used two women for your own purposes, oblivious to the pain you would cause.  I told you to stop acting wounded.  You have no idea what a wound is.  You didn’t love either one of us.  You are incapable of loving someone.  You are only capable of stealing from them, to bolster the empty hole that is your heart.  Stealing their pure love, their energy, their lives, so that you can believe you are valuable because these two women love you.

I have told you 100 times, I saw your soul.  Maybe 1000.  You know it was true, you know I knew things about you I shouldn’t have known because you didn’t tell me.  I told you your value is within.  Find it.  Take this time and find it.  Stop leaching off of me and her.

It doesn’t matter what happened to you when you were a child.  It doesn’t matter what you did yesterday.

It matters what you choose to do today.

Try loving yourself, enough to acknowledge who you have been, and to try to be the person you want to be.  The person you think you are when one of us took you to our bed and adored you.

We deserved to be adored back.

It was for her.  It was never about you.  You and only you are responsible for your life.

The End Is In Sight This Morning

I’m up early this morning.  I have been out on the deck since the very first rays of sunlight edged the eastern horizon.  It’s still, the birds are not even singing yet.  And it’s cool, I’m wrapped in a blanket.  It promises to be a beautiful day.

I’d thought I was going to the beach today, but that didn’t work out.  It’s ok, though.  I am going for a walk with a friend this morning, just back from Martha’s Vineyard where she has a summer home.  It will be good to catch up.  My son will be home from his music festival in the early afternoon, and it will be good to see him, have his somewhat chaotic energy back in the house.  And his help in finding and getting rid of the snake!

I am better this morning.  I have a selenite healing wand with a fluorite tip on it.  The two stones are very healing.  I held it to my heart last night.  One of selenite’s metaphysical properties is that it helps to break up patterns, and I felt it was exactly what I needed to get over S.  I need to break up the pattern that my mind and heart go through when I think of him.  I held it there, and repeated “detach” like a mantra.  Focusing on the word, on visually seeing the energetic cords break off and fall away.  I fell asleep with it that way.  I think it helped.  Because this morning when I think of him, I remember all the ways we did not get along, all the reasons I tried to break it off with him all summer, and he kept drawing me back in.

Looking back, I suppose he just didn’t want to be alone.  I don’t think that he thought that, purposefully.  Just, he really has so few people in his life.  His daughter and son, and one good friend that I know of.  He wasn’t in love with me, but he liked the fact that I was.

I am putting that in the past tense.  I think I can just begin to feel the transformation of what I felt for him, becoming something else.  Something less painful, something more like the words of that song “You’re just someone that I used to love.”   No mean intent, just that I can feel the first tendrils of moving my heart away from him, and the pain and chaos loving him has cost me.

I’ve known for months we were not meant to be.  We never saw each other for one, which was his decision. Not mine.  But I stopped fighting it long ago.  I saw him maybe 4 times all summer.  So why is it such a big deal that he is not with me now?  Because he’s with someone else, and it feels like rejection.  Because I am jealous, I would have liked to be someone he wanted to spend more time with, but I never was, so I need to stop making it out to be like he ever wanted to be with me anyway.  He just liked keeping me on the periphery of his life, liked knowing there was someone out there who adored him.

Well, I don’t, adore him at the moment.  I’m not mad, but this morning I am real.  His relationships are all pretty dysfunctional.  He has been healing the one with his daughter, but Betty Boop will probably reverse that in a big hurry.  Too bad.

I have lived such a dysfunctional life with my ex, that I was comfortable with S’s ability to create a dysfunctional relationship with me.  I realized that this summer, there are probably 3 or 4 blogs about how I tried to end it with him, and he talked me out of it.  Most notably, the time in maybe July, where he had just pulled me back in with the possibility of him being very sick, and then disappeared on me for 4 days.  I mean, literally, on the weekend, he called and asked me not to “dump” him, and told me how he is sick and the constant pain of his headaches was making him behave poorly, and so I didn’t, and I think he came up to my house that weekend, maybe.  Then the next weekend his mother died and he disappeared to New Jersey, without a word, and I was calling the hospitals here to see if he’d been admitted, because I was afraid he had an aneurysm.  I was so terrified.  He came home and texted me like it was nothing.

Dysfunction.

I don’t need that.  He once told me that he and his ex gf used to fight passionately, and make up passionately, and that there had been many times when they had separated for months at a time.  This was when we first met, and I thought, I don’t want any fighting passionately.  When a fight begins, I run.  I was the runner.  I have had more than my share of hard fought, blood and guts fights in my life, and I don’t like them.  Back then, he didn’t yet know she had married within months of leaving him.  I think he thought it was just another temporary break up.  One day she messaged him, after I’d been seeing him for a couple of months, said she wanted to see him.  Of course, I was terrified, and he was kinder then, than now.  He told me to not worry, that I was taking him out of the equation, that he was just going to talk to her, and it didn’t mean he was going back to her.  Turns out she wanted to meet with him to tell him face to face she was married.  He disappeared then for 2 days.  Wouldn’t talk to me, or answer my texts, left me hanging out to dry, just kind of like this weekend.  The difference was he gave our relationship no consideration this time, He just said, “she’s back in my life.”  After 18 months.  He let go of me so fast, that it’s taken me days just to get up on my own two feet again.  I was blindsided, not only by Betty Boop’s appearance in his life, and mine by extension, but by how easily and quickly he threw our relationship to the wind.

Well, it’s all moot now.  She’s back, and I am letting go.  I think about all the hurt, all the times he disregarded my feelings because he couldn’t cope with his own.  When I am in a relationship with someone, him included, generally I consider their feelings first.  He and I both were dysfunctional, we could not figure out how to make it work.

It was a bad relationship.  It is good that something happened to make it actually end, to create an ending that there is no bridge from to get back to where we were.  Where we were was not a good place anyway.  I know there are much better places ahead of me, than behind me.

I’m going to have a good day today.  The knot in my stomach has unraveled some.  I made a pot of chili yesterday, but couldn’t eat any of it.  We’ll have it today, with some good bread.  I’ll work at opening the door for something “magnificent” to walk through.  I know the rest of my life will be wonderful, I know what I want, and where I’m going and what I’m going to do when I get there. S is beginning to fade, and I can imagine, for the first time, that a day is coming where I don’t think of him wistfully.  Maybe kind of, he was kind of a cool guy but so messed up.  I’d like to remember him fondly, but not painfully.  Someday.

Not there yet, but like I say, I know where I’m going and what I want, and that’s what I want.  Just to let go of it all, say I loved him once, we had some fun, but we had more pain, and we let it go.

The end.