Category Archives: Healing from Betrayal

Why I Forgive

Posted on by learning to live like water

Someone told me tonight that my ability to forgive is amazing.  While that is a compliment, (I think, lol), I thought about it for awhile, and why that is.  I have endured a lot of pain at someone else’s hand, yet I can’t stay angry, and I am constantly looking for a way to forgive, and move on, move forward.

I think that the poster below says it better than anything I could.  Brene Brown explains human nature to me as no one else has ever been able.  When I read this, I know this person doesn’t believe they are worthy of love and belonging.  I know they are, worthy of it, that’s all.  I know everyone is, just because they exist, for no other reason.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean that what was done to me was right, it doesn’t mean I want that person in my life.  It just means that what they did cannot hurt me anymore, and it recognizes that people are generally doing the best they can.  The best they can based on their level of consciousness at the time.  It doesn’t mean that I want that level in my life.  Forgiveness acknowledges a person’s innate worth.  As she says, it’s an irreducible need of all people to be loved.  I will always love this person.  I have forgiven everything.  And I move on with my life.

 

irreducable need.png

If you have been hurt by someone, or something, and you can’t seem to get your footing back, I highly recommend Brene Brown’s book, Rising Strong.  She will help you get off the floor and back to a standing position, to heal your wounds and move on with your life.

Let Me Go, Set Me Free

Posted on by learning to live like water

set me free

The middle of the night is a lonely place, in my bed, alone, remembering him next to me, and then not.  His blue eyes laughing, sparkling, smiling. And then cold, like the blue of a glacier, floating in a cold ocean. Unfeeling, uncaring. Waiting for me to blindly crash into him and sink.  Missing him, why?

The hole he left in my heart….he filled it with ugliness.  Why in the world would I miss someone who used and abused me for his own pleasure?

I beg the archangels, cut these energetic cords with him. The cords that cross centuries, the cords that cross lifetimes.  I don’t want them anymore. I don’t want any in this lifetime.  I don’t want the old ones to pull me in and make me ache for what I don’t even know, or understand.

Cut them from my head, from my hands, from my heart.  Or pull them out, by the roots.  Send them back to him, or out into the universe.  There are times I don’t even know if I’m feeling my own emotions or his.  Cut them, protect me from them.  Let me know that the pain I feel is my own.  I don’t want to have to deal with his pain.  If I am.  My own pain is sufficient burden to carry.

Let me forget.  Forget the emotions which make me remember the lost dreams, the love I lavished on him. That make me remember the lies, the deception he lay in my path, to stumble across as I ran down it, my eyes blinded by my own tears, and fall flat on my face, broken, bruised and bleeding, with no hand to help me up but my own.

But to hold space, for him….because I can’t not love him, but I can’t be hurt anymore.  I can’t wake in the night any more and miss him.  I can’t continue to have emotions about him that defy the reality in which I live.

I have sat with these emotions long enough.  I beg the loving energy of the universe:  let me go, set me free.

 

This Letting Go Is Hard-Ass Stuff

Posted on by learning to live like water

where the light comes in

As quickly as the melancholy came, it left.  Maybe because I got to have a real adult conversation with my son and his (maybe) girlfriend.  Maybe it’s because I got into making a traditional soup for Christmas.  I used to always make it, it’s my mother-in-law’s recipe, and it made my son happy.

It was probably a lot about the gongs, and what bubbled up, that memory of Scott holding my hand, that had to be let go of.  Often, you don’t feel the work of the gongs, or stop feeling it,  for a few days.  It was all symbolic.  That he wouldn’t let go of my hand, or me.  That I had to let go of him.  And now I have to let go of that memory.  All about letting go.   That’s why I remembered it then….to help me really let go.

I thought about, am thinking about, taking some soup to my ex, leaving it on his doorknob.  But I think he is always there.  I don’t want to run into him, really.  I just feel bad for him, all alone at Christmas.  I know it’s what he wants, I know he set himself up for it.  But he’s been alone at Christmas since 2008.  Even his sister doesn’t want him at her house.  Too much chaos, bullshit, lies.  It’s hard on those who cared about him.  It’s why I don’t want to run into him.

This letting go stuff is hard-ass stuff.  But when you can actually get there….even if it’s not forever, it’s so freeing.  Maybe it’s just one layer, that I managed to let go of today, but I did it.  No worse for the wear and tear.  Better than holding on to a memory that was sweet…and a manipulation to make me believe I mattered.  Realizing that it was Sunday, I realized now that he came to my bed from hers.  Really feeling special about that one….lol.  I don’t suppose she’d be feeling much different than me, if she finds out.  She might…she has the link to my blog, though I don’t feel like she’s reading them anymore.  Whatever.  The hurt, and the beauty, of the moment is gone.  A casualty of the massive deception.

But I’m still here.  I’m still me. I’m still someone with a wonderful life.  He didn’t kill me….Wounded, yes.  But the light got in.

 

 

Caught in the Riptide

Posted on by learning to live like water

riptide

A….just always there for me.  I don’t know why, I just don’t have any idea why but he is.  It choked me up all day.

He got my message, and his response was….

“Good morning, my love.”

No chastising me.  No questions.  No anger.  Nothing, but unconditional love.

I wished he were here with me.  I wished we were snuggling, sharing a cup of coffee, talking, anything.  I do love him, really….but I can’t sustain that. And I don’t know why.  Before, it was because of Scott.  It’s not him, now.  But I think it might be repercussions of him.

Because I got so triggered this past weekend, and by A, the gentlest, most loving of souls….I have to say, I’m not relationship material yet.  I’m ok on the surface, but there’s still a lot of grief, loss, sadness, anger running like a riptide underneath, and at any moment, it might sweep me out to sea and risk drowning anyone who is with me.   And it’s A who has been by my side.

He hated Scott for me when I could not, lol.  He brought me around to feel sorry for him, when the depth of his depravity was uncovered, he was the first to say, “I just went from hate to pity.  He needs our prayers…”  Because S’s actions absolutely indicated a deep and terrible illness.  And even A, who has played 2nd fiddle to S for months, when I couldn’t let go….can see it, and offer up his compassion.

I love A, and I want him in my life.

But I’m not consistent.  This morning I was gonna try to Facetime him when I got home but tonight, I don’t feel it so much.  I really scared myself, realizing that I almost kicked him out of my life.  God, stupid.  This morning, I felt jealous of the woman in Santa Fe….and tonight, I am back to where I was.  I can’t be what he needs and deserves.  But I want him in my life, for sure.

I was still triggered today.  I imagined talking to S….what would we possibly have to say?  “Why did you do that?”  He won’t know, or won’t say.  He’d ask “Why did you tell her….”  Because she had to know.  It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.  You were never gonna tell her the truth, I was going to remain a lie somewhere there.  I’m sick of being a lie, and a secret.  And you would have made me stay that way, and she would have never known the truth.  I fucking loved you, and I wanted to make sure she knew that.  That I didn’t just fuck you, that I LOVED you with every fiber of my being.  That you were trying to be with me just days before.  That I wasn’t what you wanted her to think I was. I was not going to be minimized by you and your narcissism.

You didn’t want to save her pain, you wanted to continue to manipulate her feelings, her love, her emotions.  Just like you did me, but I found out the truth.

So….what would he and I have to say?  Nothing.  Nothing, except I loved you, you tried to kill me.  I don’t know when my heart will ever open up again.  When I will trust someone again.  It was not that you were with her that hurt so much, it was the lies, the cruelty of every thing you did after 10:30 on October 3.  All the voice mails, all the texts, all the sexting, the phone calls, you tried to keep me hanging on while you were with her.  Cruel.  Why couldn’t you just let me go?  Why couldn’t you let me go when you came to the park back in May, and told me you wanted to be by yourself.  Why didn’t you just stick with it?  Instead of asking me to come over? Instead of calling me and telling me you should have come to Florida with me?  Instead of coming here and making sweet love with me?

It’s the loss, of finding out that who I thought you were and adored was some shell you put on for me.  I had to give you up, and then I had to GIVE YOU UP…because you didn’t even exist.  I fucking miss that man who doesn’t exist.  And I grieve for him.

What would I have to say?  Nothing, that could lead to anything but to bring back the pain.

So I almost pushed Addie away today, because the ghost man that I loved hurt me so much that what he did still, 3 1/2 months later,  can stab me in the back when I’m just out for a stroll.

I was drowning this weekend.  Today I managed to get to shore, but I’m tired, out of breath, and traumatized.  I need to do what A wants me to, to “rest in his love.”  And I will.   And S….I’m pretty sure he’ll be alone.  Which is the safest place for everyone else.

 

 

 

Random Memories Wreaking Havoc

Posted on by learning to live like water

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.

 

 

 

Just Some Observations

Posted on by learning to live like water

 I wrote a blog about S and I, about how we would get together after work. But I’ve deleted it, just now. Decided it was too personal. 

I went to bed last night, and just thought about how it was, and how he could be that way with me, and then leave and go to her bed the next day…and never tell either of us.  What kind of mentality allows someone to do that?

How could it not be special?  He said, after I found out, “My relationship with you is nothing like my relationship with her.”  How could he separate his emotions like that? How could he be two different people? How could he not feel extreme guilt when he was with either of us?

Well, we always pay.  What we bury, or ignore, or deny, our bodies deal with.  No wonder his diabetes is back.  No wonder he had those terrible headaches last summer.  Maybe the headaches were a lie too, just an excuse he made up so I wouldn’t press him to see him on Saturday night.  Nothing is for sure anymore.

I told him, back when I would talk to him, to see his pulmonologist.  I didn’t think the health issue I was feeling was his diabetes.  I thought it had to do with his breathing.  Probably because when I’ve done reiki on him, his heart and throat chakras were so blocked.

It’s all just an observation now.  I look at what happened without emotion now.  It’s not really even a pleasant memory anymore, just a memory, like a dream that suddenly goes bad.

You wake up, and say, it was just a dream.  An hour later, you’ve forgotten it.

I’ll find someone else to sit on the deck with me and stargaze.  I’m letting go, with every word I write.  7 weeks out, I think I’m doing pretty well.

As Good As It Gets, for the moment

Posted on by learning to live like water

Mondays I work late, til 7.  I started work at 9.  So, it was another long, busy day.  It’s good, that it’s busy.

But now I’m home.  I’ve eaten leftovers from Sunday, when I usually manage to make a decent meal.  I have a half glass of cabernet beside me, 3 squares of dark chocolate, in my warm fleece jammies, lol.  It’s about as good as I can get it at the moment.

Good, considering I was a little angry about things today, but I wrote the anger off to the still present emotional waves.  When I thought about how cruelly he ended it with me 7 weeks ago, and then wouldn’t let me go, kept calling and texting and leaving me voice mails, asking me to come see him, right up to the moment he was exposed, and then had the unmitigated gall to ask me to lie for him….Geezus.  It just pissed me off.  I mean, really what rock did he crawl out from under?  But I’m over it.  A little rage bubbles up, I consider the source, and honest to God, I have to laugh at someone who is so clueless.  Geezus.

So, now I’m home, in my beautiful home, relaxing, writing, being happy.  A is texting me with his undying love, which from 2000 miles is a soothing.  He has gutted his new home, he’s sent me pics.  He and his son are doing all the work.  A is 69, man, he’s working his ass off physically.

I so didn’t want to be at work today.  I can’t wait to put this house on the market in spring.  I am believing that it will sell by summer.  I just can’t wait to retire, and not work.  Own a home with no mortgage.  I wanted to be writing all day today.  It has become such a passion, to sit down and put my thoughts and emotions to written word.  So healing.

My cousin was reading some of the poetry I’ve written and put up here last night.  She knows what I’ve been through and could feel it in what I wrote.  She said, “Damn, Deb, you are good…”  I told her the only problem is that to write a good poem I apparently need to be tortured, lol. Or crazy in love.  So… lately I’m just tortured.

The love will come, the love will come.  My heart is open, the love will come.

Early Morning Thoughts

Posted on by learning to live like water

Early Morning Sunrise 11-23-15

Early morning sunrise is beautiful this morning.  I have been up since well before dawn, but I slept well last night.

I did my final day of the Deepak Chopra 21 day free meditation this morning.  When it was done I saw this sunrise, like a simple gift from the universe.

Every morning I wake up a little farther from the chaos of the last few weeks, and it usually lessens throughout the day.  I am not slipping backward, which is a huge thing.  I have no more rogue waves knocking me down.  Nothing pushing me backward.

Grateful this morning, I guess.  Just grateful.  There is so much to be grateful for, even the hard lessons.  I can see it all as a gift.  Even though at times, I still pick my jaw up off the floor at the depth of deception that one man can create, he deceived himself worst of all.  His deception made me smarter, and wiser.  I have grown from the experience.  As long as we do that, it’s never a waste.

It’s only a 3 day work week this week.  Hopefully I will go to the sweat lodge Saturday.  I know it would be really good for me.  I feel blessed that there are so many healing opportunities around here to bring me back to myself.  Every day I remember more who I was, and who I am.

Thanksgiving will be quiet as usual.  Just me and my son.  I’m grateful he’ll be home all day. It is the first time in a few years he has not had to go into work in the late afternoon to work overnight for Black Friday.  In fact he has the day off, his new job is not a hot spot for Christmas shopping.

Been texting with A this morning, since early, which is really early for him.  He is telling me about his son’s girlfriend, coming to see him from Maine, to New Mexico, talking about moving out there.  I think he is wistful, that I have no interest in doing that.  I have always told him I could never live in the desert.  I wouldn’t mind visiting, but probably not him for more than a day or two.  I love him, but it’s a love that’s better from a distance than up close.

I’m still sure the up close one is headed my way.

Love and light.

 

Looking for Balance This Morning

Posted on by learning to live like water

A few days distance from the lies, and the waves of my emotions are returning to a place I am more comfortable with.  Gentle swells on the ocean, rhythmic rising and falling.   My head has stopped spinning and the heavy weight of so many lies and such deceit has been passed from me to the universe, where it will be righted, and atoned.

I have so often espoused unconditional love in my blog.  Last night, I suddenly felt a wave of deep sorrow, not for myself or Betty, but for S.  I just cannot imagine living a life in which I thought I had to lie and deceive to keep people in my life.  I have this same feeling about my ex, I cannot imagine feeling so unworthy of love and belonging that I felt the only way to keep people in my life was to control and abuse them.

That being said, I know it is the journey of both men to discover that they too have a center in their soul which is an expression of God. I cannot help them. If they don’t want to find it, they will not.  Free will….lets them choose.

If only they knew the joy that lay in letting that light shine.

I know my ex, when he was young, was trying to let it shine.  He tried to do the right thing.  I have to say, he was faithful to me and never lay with another woman.  But he was unfaithful to me, in his lies and dishonor and disrespect, his anger, his self-centeredness.

I still feel that when I met S, and he was just out of chemo, he was grateful to be alive.  He was trying to live his life in gratitude.  While he didn’t disabuse me of the notion that Betty had done him horribly wrong, he didn’t talk much about it, and only said occasionally he didn’t know how he could have been so wrong about someone.  He added no other lies to his repertoire that I know of during that time.  There was the prison whore, but he did come to me, look me in the eye and tell me he knew he wanted to be with other women.  The fact was that he couldn’t take my sorrow and my sadness.  I think he was shocked to see the depth of the love I had for him.  He told me he would rethink it, and we continued on.  But the desire was in his heart, and he did the prison whore a couple of weeks later, and told me.  Then he came to me, and told me about it from where he stood, and I understood him, and I forgave him.

The point is, he was trying to be honest then.  That’s when I fell madly in love with him.

And a month later, when Betty came back into his life, the lies began. Based on the man I knew and loved, why would I have even suspected?  Maybe he just reverted, maybe the pull to his younger self was too strong, the energetic ties there too strong for his newly found honesty and gratitude to survive.  There was so much history there to remind him, at the deepest level, of who he used to be, and he succumbed.

I think he liked the drama.  He loved living on the edge.  Once he told me about being rescued off a ship by helicopter.  I asked if he was afraid.  He said no, that he felt the most alive when he was living on the edge. Every time he was with one of us, and we hadn’t figured out that the other existed, he felt had walked on the edge and survived.

Sadly, I think the only time he felt loved was when someone was crying over him. And maybe when one of us took him to our bed and adored him.

The only time he felt alive was when he was risking it all.

Therein lies his work, if he chooses to do it.

What do I do about my belief that the love never dies, that my love for him was unconditional?  It is, it was, it will always be.  But that doesn’t mean that I accept his behavior.  It doesn’t mean I would ever subject myself to the possibility of that kind of pain again.

But I look at  him, and still see that child’s soul, just wanting to be loved for simply existing, but never receiving it.  Never having his own soul’s beauty validated.  He became what he believed he was, he lived up to the expectations of other damaged people.

I hope he will go within, if he remains alone. Or even if he doesn’t.  I hope he will try to learn to love himself, and let that light, that I glimpsed for a few lovely months, shine.  I hope he will own his own story and see the incredible lessons he can learn from it.  It’s not too late for him, even at age 66 he can redeem himself. He can still evolve.

I’m just much more comfortable with love than hate.  I am more comfortable hoping for the best in his future, than dwelling on the ugly in his past.  Who more than S, needs unconditional love?  He is in my prayers.

Not that I want his future to include me.  My path has gone far from him, but he will always be a big part of who I am.  I learned so much from this experience.  Hard lessons, and some happy ones.  The one I am happiest about is that I am capable of loving someone so intensely.  That I am not afraid to be seen, regardless of what the outcome will be.  Obviously, the outcome here was not one I wanted.  But I trust that there is a reason for that, for my higher good, and everyone else’s.  I trust that I needed to learn these lessons to be ready for the outcome I want.  I have faith that it will manifest one day with someone more closely aligned to my vibration.

The hard lessons, well, we all know what they are.  I’ve talked about them enough.

Looking for balance this morning, I guess.  I know this much is true….The love never dies.  It has become like water, transformed into a cloud, and will rain down somewhere else soon.

 

 

Just Some Retrospective Thoughts

Posted on by learning to live like water

I texted with A till 11:30 last night. He is good for my soul, he loves me so purely. It was soothing after this crazy week.  I told him about the new treachery of the week. How it didn’t cause new heartbreak, but that the sheer volume of the lies and betrayal just  overloaded my ability to cope with it.

He asked if my heart was closed. Yes, until I can figure out how I let this happen to me.

He asked me to open my heart to him. He said just practice on me, lol. No commitment.

I laughed a little. I don’t want a relationship. I want to discover why I have made such bad choices in men, why I so easily believed all the lies when they are now so obviously lies I should have seen 100 miles away. I need to do some soul searching, I need to clear my head.

I told him that the whole thing has made me feel nauseous, like, dirty. Like I was raped all summer repeatedly. I feel dirty. How could I have not known?  To be having intimate incredible sex with someone who was also having it with someone else.  It’s just so disgusting to me.

Lies. Just a bed of lies.

A is such a good kind man, and so stuck on a woman who can’t love him. But at least I have not led him on. He knows the truth.

I gotta admit S never told me he loved me. He told me he didn’t want to be in love. Although once when we were talking about it he said “I said I didn’t want to be. I didn’t say that I wasn’t”.  Another time when he was leaving I told him I loved him and he replied “in my own way I love you too Deb.”  So I guess he kind of did. Enough to keep me there. 

He often said he cared a lot for me, “you know there’s a lot more than sex going on here.”  It seemed so. We spent a lot of time laughing, talking, sharing. All day, every day. An ongoing convo. I was part of his every day life, moment to moment.

I cannot imagine leading A on. I cannot conceive of lying to him to make him think I cared more than I do.  He has always known where I stand. I don’t try to keep him in my life. He stays in it out of choice.

Well, I guess we are seeing the end result of lying as a way of life.

I keep thinking about how S kept telling me to read the Art of War. The first rule was to avoid war at all costs.  Yet.., he set up a scenario that was bound to end up blowing apart two women’s hearts, to start a war. He says he is not unscathed. I have to laugh at that.  It was not his heart that was betrayed so callously, so cruelly, so carelessly.

And kept trying to get me to play the ancient game of “Go”.  He loved it, because it was all about saving face. I hated the idea. Saving face?  Geezus.  Own your story, make amends, grow, change, become a better man.  Save face when you have betrayed people who love you?  What kind of false comfort is that?  I’d have to ask him which face he wanted to save, he has so many.

I’m feeling very detached from it all this morning.  At least, way more than yesterday.  I’m starting to rise strong again.  I’m making pretty good progress, I think. But from time to time I need to reflect, and see at what points I could have made other choices that would have prevented all this pain.

And I don’t need to save face, lol.  I need to stand in my truth and own my story.  And that, I can do.  Every time.