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.




For Paris, For Us All

The Great Bell Chant (The End of Suffering)

I keep trying to write something for Paris, but it is too overwhelming for me to have a coherent thought.  I know all our hearts are with the the citizens of Paris, of France, and of humanity, as President Obama said.  We are all connected, nothing affects anyone that doesn’t affect everyone.

Anyone who reads my blogs knows that I am a believer in the power of love.  But here….there was such huge evil intent.  Its inexplicable,

I pray for peace.  I pray for healing. I pray for light to be borne of this darkness.

Who Knows?

Autumn in full glow

The leaves in day glow colors

Love in bloom



Expectant with color


Life, full and rich.

Until the bitter cold wind blows through

Ripping the leaves off their tenuous hinge.

Throwing them to the ground,

To wither, and die.

The leaves, still full colored,

Lay on the ground

Blind-sided by that cold bitter wind.

Their luster already fading.

They disintegrate into the earth.

The devastation is complete, thinks the cold wind.

What was, will never be again.

But love never dies.

Transformation begins.

With transformation comes something new

And maybe more beautiful.

Who knows?

Every Second Takes Me Farther Away

Here’s the problem.  I went to bed last night and thought, without thinking, this is S’s side.  I get a pizza, and think of ordering it the way S liked.  I get dressed, and he liked me in this. None of them are conscious thoughts, they are just there.  Permeating every thought.  My text alert goes off, and I think it’s him.  I put him on “do not disturb” do I still get them, but there is no alert so they don’t make my heart stop.  I will just see that he’s texted when I open my phone.  It’s a small step, but it helped a little yesterday.  There probably won’t be anymore texts anyway.  I think he’s done, he’s not going to try to pull me back. He knows my mind is made up.  I know he thinks I shouldn’t care about her being in his life….but he knows I do. I’m not sure he understands how he irretrievably broke my trust, because that would mean he had to look at what he did to figure out why.


This morning is easier. Every second takes me farther from him.  Every second that passes dims the memories, the hopes, the desire.  And anyway, when it gets bad for me, I can visibly see him Monday night, watching me suffer and not giving a damn.  Just drama to him.  Feelings aren’t real to him, he doesn’t have any, even though he declares he does.  He kept saying that, “I have feelings too”.  I said “but no one knows what they are.  You never talk about them.”  So…whatever they are, that might have soothed my soul to know he could feel something about the end of our relationship, will forever remain his secret.

It’s his way.  It’s why we can’t be together.  I just wish he hadn’t drawn me back in so many times.  I wish he’d just let me go the 4 or 5 times I tried over the summer.  Even when HE was the one who said he needed to go off and find out who he was, when I said, then go, S, find out.  You can check in with me whenever you want., he would be drawing me back a couple days later.  For a guy who wanted to be alone, he made a pretty concerted effort to keep me in his life.  I drew the line at having a purely physical relationship, so I didn’t see him much.  But I was there, every day, all day, texting, sharing…every day.

I guess that’s what i will miss if I ever get past the hurt, is his funny quirky sense of humor.  He says it was different when we could sit on the deck and talk.  Of course it was.  There wasn’t a third person in the relationship.  Of course it was.  I wasn’t expected to share him.

He calls it a green-eyed monster.  As if there is one woman in the world who would be ok with being dumped hours before she expected to see her man, dumped for another woman??  Is there anyone out there that would think it’s ok for him to see her Saturday and me Sunday?  Seriously?

Ii just wish the ache in my heart would go away.  Time, distance….right now it feels like I need to travel to Mars to get away.

The Art of War

I’m sitting here so morose.  Feeling like I’m the only woman in the world who has ever been played.  Only woman who has ever been blindsided by someone she loved.  Like no one else has ever felt this kind of pain.

It’s so ridiculous.  I have friends who have endured this, and become stronger.  Some of these friends actually shared their lives, had kids, and had to somehow get through this same kind of betrayal.

I gave him the power over me.  I chose to love him. Last week, he told me I could change things between us.   I said, “No, S.  If I could have, I would have.  But you get to choose who you are going to love, who you are going to be with.  I don’t get to choose for anyone.  I chose for myself.  I chose you, I chose to love you intensely, emotionally, and physically.  You have to choose for yourself.”

And thereby…I told him what to do.  Not knowing that he was weighing me against her, I gave him the backing to choose her, over me.  To devastate me.  Because I didn’t know. I gave him the words, to justify what he did.

Which would have been fine, if he’d come clean with me at that point.  Instead of telling me I should stop talking about the past, I should should be talking about the future.  Instead of telling me, when I told him that any physical connection is only an expression of how much I love him.  And telling me, “I think you need to tell me that a dozen more times. XOXO.”  One week ago.

He couldn’t tell me.  He had to lie to me.  Because make no mistake, withholding the truth is lying.

I’ll find love again.  And it will go both ways.  The fact that he won’t, gives me no joy.

But the decision has been made.  There is no turning back. I won’t be there if it falls apart.  And how can it not?  A woman who leaves her boyfriend of 12 years when she thinks he’s dying, to get married to someone she cheated on him with, after taking him for as much as she can, and a man that uses people for his own benefit, with no care for the devastation he leaves in his wake.

Why did I allow myself to ever become a factor here?  It will take me some time to answer that question.

Betrayal goes so deep, it turns your insides out, it turns your thinking and all you held dear, upside down.  You don’t trust yourself, because you are sure you should have known better.  You should have seen it coming, but you didn’t.  You trusted the wrong person.

S used to tell me to read “The Art of War”.  He said the first rule of war was to avoid it all costs.

Well……I think it’s him should read it.  I think BETRAYAL has caused plenty of wars.  Maybe, because he felt he could play God, and play me….he thinks it doesn’t apply to him.