The End of the Fireworks

the end

My book club is reading “The Untethered Soul” by Mark Singer.  I have seen him on OWN, on Super Soul Sunday and liked him.  I just started the book, but he begins by talking about the voice in our heads.

He asks why we  discuss with ourselves, in our heads, situations and things that we know.  I thought about how I keep re-running the chaos that ended the relationship with Scott, and replaying it in my head.  Why??  do I do that to myself?

I know what it was, I know how it hurt, but I’ll never really get past it if I keep re-living it in my head, or here on the page.  I know what happened, I know how I loved him, I know all the red flags that I ignored, I know what he did to me, to her.  I know how he is now, there’s nothing that needs to be figured out.

I would like to shut that conversation down permanently.  I don’t want to forget, I just don’t want to be obsessing about it.  It was traumatic, yes.  At my age, I’d never experienced it before, and was blindsided that it happened.  But I need to let it all go.  Why give all that bad news my continued attention?

Gratitude is a better place to go. This morning I woke up after a poor night’s sleep and thought about all the things I do have.  My great son, a lovely home, a lot of friends, a decent job, the real possibility of retiring and moving closer to family.  I’m grateful for our incredibly mild winter so far.  I’m grateful to have a few things I love to do passionately.

If I think about my relationship with him, I am going to be grateful that I found out I can love passionately, despite my long abusive marriage.  I honestly never thought I would when I left it.  That I chose the wrong man, is secondary to the fact that I was able to passionately love someone.

I guess a relationship that was so passionate, was probably not going to end quietly.  It was bound to go down in a huge explosion of emotion.  We were night and day, just as he said in the poem he wrote me. When we occupied the same space for a short time, there were fireworks in the sky like the blazing colors of dusk and dawn.  Sometimes it was beautiful and sometimes the display was terrifying.  Now  all the fireworks are spent and I am going to just let the memories fade, pack up my stuff and go home.

I have a lot of good years to live yet.  I don’t want to waste any more of my days trying to make sense of that chaos.  It will be an effort at first, because I think it’s a habit now.  But I’ve never been an addictive person, and I can change that.

With gratitude, and a conscious effort to extend love and compassion wherever I go.

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Pleasurable Options

I was so angry last night, to find out that the deception was far beyond what I had believed.  The difference is,I wasn’t hurt by it.  This weekend, after I had that moment and sent him an innocuous email, I really haven’t missed him at all, haven’t wanted to be with him, could think about him with no emotion.  So I suppose the universe decided it was a good time for me to get the whole truth.  I hate a liar.  I mean really hate them. My ex was pathological, and S…he is maybe too.  He apparently loves to be manipulating peoples emotions.  He’s worse, really.  My ex would manipulate situations.  He never tried to manipulate my emotions about him.  Whatever.  S is a scumbag asshole, he and Betty Boop can live in their deceptive bliss.  It is so tempting, now that I know her name and could easily get her address, to consider disabusing her of her ignorant bliss.  But I think it’s more effective to let karma play it out.  I just want to get distance from that whole sordid ridiculous childish bullshit.  I could stir the pot, I could cause massive problems.  But it’s not me.  Let him play his games with her, he’ll get found out, and I’m pretty sure she likes the games or is dumber than me, if she doesn’t see what he’s up to.

A texted me last night, at about 10.  I’m usually going to bed, but I was so angry I stayed up and talked to him.  I didn’t tell him about it, but just talking to him calmed me down.  We stopped talking about me going there, but began a conversation about him coming here over Christmas-New Years.  IDK.  I am so conflicted.  But thinking that I’ve never had a bad moment with him, he has been instrumental in my healing from the scumbag.  Maybe I should give us a chance.  He’s loving, and kind, and sweet.  Now that I’m really free of S maybe I should give it a chance to see what’s there.

So, life goes on.  I feel good this morning.  To be free, to have a kind wonderful man in my life who loves me, and the possibility of something.  At least, options that give me nothing but pleasure.

More Work

  
All these posts, about healing, letting go, working through the trauma. I’ve said it all so many times. I’m sure S reads  it and thinks yeah she’ll be contacting me soon. 

All my friends say “yeah we’ve heard that before.”  Even my son. 

And I recognize that always after a few days I begin missing him. 

So yeah, the posts are me, trying to convince myself. But this time, there is no going back. There is no “I miss you” message to send. 

The man I loved didn’t exist. He was a construct of my imagination and desire.  Even though I could, and still can, see his soul, the person he covers it with,and uses to deny his true self even to himself, is completely opposite of what I believed he could be, and thought was. I have to remind myself constantly of who he chooses to be, regardless of my belief that he was capable of so much more. 

Some people want to rise to others expectations. Others want to lower yours so they can remain in the place they are comfortable, regardless of its darkness, it chill, starkness, devoid of human compassion. 

There’s a poster on FB, I see all the time that says “be the person your dog thinks you are. “.  Some people try to live up to that expectation. Some people abuse the dog so they can make the dog change its mind.  

S is the second. He tried to change me to become like him. Sex without love. Secrets held dearer than life. Walls, not bridges. 

I am so glad that I refused to change who I was. And in fact, left him many times for just that reason. 

So.. I’ll get through it this time. I won’t become a shell of the person I am for anyone.  He is not insisting this time. He is not sucking me back in for another go round at it. He has Betty Boop and she’s already there with him 

All I would be is an ego boost for him.  He would have kept “sexting” me if I allowed it. He’d even arrange a tryst occasionally if I allowed it.  Of course she’d never know, until he wanted to crush her at some point. 

I’ve been there with him before. He’s good at crushing.  Not so good at nurturing. 

No not going back. Just working through it.  Helps me see through the thinning fog. 

Grateful For My Breath

I had a difficult night, and only slept a few hours.  Today will be a long day, but I’ll get through it.  My ginger kitty, Maggie, was so sweet.  She heard me break down, in the dark, and jumped up and sat next to me, licking my hand and my arm, to tell me she loved me.  She lay down beside me with her head on my arm, to comfort me.

Letting go is so hard.  It’s not just the person, it’s all you wished and prayed and  hoped would happen.  It all has to go, and it leaves a hole.  A painful hole.

He called me, he wished there was something he could do for my pain, but in his honesty, anything he could have done would have been a lie, and he hasn’t ever lied to me about it.  It’s one reason I love him, he just doesn’t lie, or make up stories to get what he wants. I told him give me a few days, I’ll be ok.

I have to remember what the psychic said….that when I close the wrong doors the right ones will open. The problem is realizing and accepting that what I was so attached to was the wrong door.  But  it was.

At least my words are coming back

Breathing, just breathing, and grateful for my breath.

A Time of Transformation.

  

The sun comes up so much later in just the last 2 weeks.  I’m outside before it, again.  There is a wee, crescent moon, a single star hidden behind the leaves of the tress and the eastern horizon is lighting up pink, fading to gray blue in a cloudless sky.  It is cool, but not cold, about 68 degrees.  No blanket needed this morning, the cool air fees lovely on my bare arms.

I still have a ball in the pit of my stomach, and food is still difficult though I am able to eat without feeling like I’m going to get sick.  I think now, it is not so much pain, but is so much regret, and confusion, and inability to comprehend what this whole past weekend was about.

First, the snake. I knew that the metaphysical meaning of a snake showing up in your life meant change.  I just looked it up for a closer look, at the meaning, it’s been a long time.  Here is what I found.

“Transmutation is the key word here. The shedding of old skin and emotions and transforming them into something bigger and better. If Snake winds itself into your life know that change is in the wind and that you are at the center of it all as the catalyst. Make sure that your intentions are clear and that you have clear a clear sense of the direction that you need to strike out in. Snake is letting you know that these changes are safe and that there is no need to fear them.”

And another site.

“The snake animal meaning is powerfully connected to life force and primal energy. In many cultures, it is revered as a powerful totem representing the source of life. When the snake spirit animal appears in your life, it likely means that healing opportunities, change, important transitions, and increased energy are manifesting.”

So, believing that there are no coincidences, I should probably look at the snakes appearance in my life in the very middle of all the weekend chaos, as a sign, that there is huge change coming, and not to be afraid of it.  That, combined with the message from the Secret Scrolls that I  published a couple days ago, which both said the same thing.  I need to lose the fear of change.

I sat last night, after I published my last blog on wanting to know the truth, and rolled around the events of the day and the weekend.  I am not meaning to be obsessed.  This is a habit I got into when I was married to a man who delighted in being devious, and loved to gaslight me, and just see if he could create a situation that would make me believe all the wrong things.  He did it for the pure joy of knowing he could control my mind and emotions.  So, I learned to read the signs, to be hypervigilant, to do my best to stay one step ahead of him.

In replaying everything last night, I still know that the conversation I had with S was not the truth.  That it was far from the truth. And that it’s design was to lead me into some chaotic path, back to him, without him having to own up to whatever it was he had planned, designed, and carried out.

Maybe it was like I said, they were together, it didn’t work out, and he was backtracking, to undo the damage he had done. Maybe the entire scenario was a fabrication, right from the start, maybe he never talked to  her at all, but made this up because he knows how jealous I am, to reassure himself that I still wanted him, and to get me to stop with ending the relationship.  I had been publishing all week prior to the appearance of Betty Boop, that I was done with the screwy relationship, that caused way more pain than pleasure for me.  Nothing adds up to him receiving a call  from her, telling me she’s back in his life, I should be happy for him, and it’s all he ever wanted, and then telling me they have just talked for a week.  I believe either they got together, hence me not hearing from him all weekend, and suffering all weekend, because he just didn’t give a damn, he was so caught up in the possibility that she was “back in his life”, or he made the whole thing up to keep me from breaking  up with him.

I have the voicemails still, that he left telling me he wished I’d be happy for him.  But I don’t want to listen to them again.  In my memory, they seem genuine, his voice seems as if he’s not acting.  But then again, he’s good at taking on roles,

The point this morning is, it doesn’t matter to me right now exactly what happened.  I know I don’t have the truth, and what the truth is doesn’t matter nearly as much as the fact that I was lied to.  And that is only equal with the fact that he knew how much pain I was in all weekend, and did nothing at all to ease it.

He is incapable of loving, but even more important he cannot empathize, he has no ability to understand another person’s pain, and he cannot stand to be accountable for the consequences of his actions.  Childish, immature, and so far from the man I thought he was, and so far from the man I want.

Back to the snake, I know the ball in the pit of my stomach is the transformation which has begun.  My transformation, out of this relationship, to open the door in a real way to a better, happier life.  It is letting go of something I held dear for a long time, and had dreams around, but every minute the fog is burning off my psyche and I see the truth a little bit better.  As it comes into focus, I will heal.

This morning, even though I can look at what happened and still feel enormous anger at S, I have to feel sorry for him too, that he felt compelled to make up a story to me, rather than tell the truth.  That he has so little confidence in who he is, that he can’t be real, even with me, who never asked him for anything except love which was the one thing I could not have. I hope he does what he’s been telling me he needs to do for 6 months, and that is to go and find  himself.  Find what he wants, find what he needs to be, and do with the years remaining on this earth.  He has so much potential, but he sets himself up for failure in his belief that he is not worthy of love and belonging.  I thought I could help him learn to believe that he has value because he exists, for no other reason.  But I can’t, couldn’t.  He needs to find that out for himself, to love himself.  He needs to learn to silence his ego, and allow his spirit to lead the way.  Then there is a possibility he will be able to love another person and not cause them both endless pain.

The sun is up now.  It promises to be a hot late summer day.  This time of year, I always think, is this the last hot day until next summer?  Will I feel the waves of warm moist heat on my skin again for many months? Every warm day in September is a blessing.  It is a good time for change, for transformation.  The autumn here is known for it’s beauty, the hills and mountains heavily wooded, covered with red, and gold, and orange, and still some green.  It can be breathtaking.

I would like to have my breath taken away by something beautiful for a change.

Note:  the picture at the top is from my deck as I wrote this blog.

Coming Full Circle

My first tears fell last night.  The anger gave way to the cause of it and I broke down sobbing last night.  I woke up doing the same this morning.  Thank God I have the sleeping pills from my carpal tunnel, they afford me 5 or 6 hours of sleep.

I miss him so much, if I think about it for a second, my heart just squeezes and all that pain just pours down my face, just wracking my body.

This morning, I unblocked him and sent him this pathetic text.

“I miss you so much I can’t breathe.  I can’t stop crying.  I’m a mess.  I tried so hard to love you so well and it didn’t matter even one teeny bit.  I unblocked you in case you have a pang of conscience about walking so briskly away from the woman that loved you.”

Because, this ex gf, Betty Boop, I don’t believe she loves him.  I believe she needs something from him, and is using his love for her to get it. I don’t think anyone who leaves a 12 year relationship, runs off an marries a man she doesn’t know, and walks out on the marriage 18 months later, has a clue about herself.  I don’t know her. I don’t need to know her, her actions tell me who she is.and my intuition.

Maybe S likes being so much smarter than her.  Maybe it feeds his ego, to have some sexy dumb woman think he’s smart.  It feeds his ego enough that he doesn’t mind being used by her to take care of all her financial needs.

Damn the connection I have with him.  If I am right they were together last night, and this morning.  I know he’ll go read the text in private, I know he won’t have read any of my blogs until he’s alone.  Maybe he’ll stop reading them altogether.  After all, I suppose he doesn’t really need to know what I’m thinking now.  He’s got her to occupy his mind.  Maybe he’s spending all of the long holiday weekend with her.  Something he would never do with me.

I need to let go.  I forgot how painful this roller coaster is.  Last night I was pretty high, I was not caring, until I got home.  This morning, I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t talk to him. I know it would be so much better if I could just cut off communication, but I just can’t, quite yet.

I still know that I’ll be ok.  I know I’ll get through this.  I know there is someone out there who will love me and what I have to offer.  It is just so hard to think of him with her.  That’s where I get stuck.  I need to do a lot of work around that one thing.  I just can’t stand him being with someone else.

He used to tell me that they never talked during the week.  Sometimes a quick, “are we on for the weekend” message.  I thought that so strange.  He and I talked all the time, texting during the day at work, in the evening, sometimes talking on the phone.  Seems so strange that he loved someone so much that he never talked to.  Just seems…a cold way to have a relationship.

Well, if that’s what he wants, that’s what he wants.  I could never want it.  I loved our conversations.  Intimate, flirty, downright sexual, intellectual, spiritual, debates at times  One reason I loved him was his ability to discuss intelligently a huge wide rage of subjects and interject his pretty expansive and varied life experiences to them.  I miss his stories.  I miss how he made me laugh.  I thought he liked it too.  I know he liked what I did for him in bed.

And she shows up, and he just takes her back, and tosses me to the side.  It’s killing me today.  Just killing me.  So much rejection, so suddenly.

I just had a glimmer though, a small one.  I thought how a week ago, he called me dumb because I misunderstood his two word communications when he was in NJ.  How angry it made me.  How unnecessary it was for him to talk to me like that.  I knew it was because he was in a bad mood from his sisters, and taking it out on me.  When I stood up to it, it got worse.  He was swearing at me, because I misunderstood him.  He had forgotten his phone charger altogether, and was trying to save the battery.  He’s always had one in the car, I’m pretty sure, and I just assumed that since he was driving he was able to charge the phone. that he only hadn’t been able to charge it when he was in his sisters house.  I told him he was the stupid one for forgetting the charger, and that he was also an asshole for calling me dumb and everything else he called me.  And later that evening, when I knew he was home and wasn’t contacting me, I sent him an email, telling him that I missed the man I thought he was, but the one that showed up that day, I didn’t want within 100 miles of me.

So the question I’m asking, that’s given me a little glimmer, is….If he were to decide he didn’t want to be with her, and wanted to be with me, do I really want that back in my life?  Because that’s our two week cycle.  I still don’t want to that man, that calls me names, and flashes his anger like a weapon, within 100 miles of me.  I only want the funny one, the one who makes me laugh, the one who tells great stories, and the one who is so physically passionate, though selfish. I can’t have one without the other. And I really don’t want the other.

That answer makes it easier to deal with the fact that he’s with her right now.  Tears have finally stopped.  If I remove Betty Boop from the equation, it is all the same.  He and I can’t work for more that 2 weeks without a blow up.  That book needed to be closed.

God, I have come full circle with this blog.

Writing is so therapeutic.  I couldn’t do this if I couldn’t write and work this stuff out.  I didn’t expect this to go here, but here I am.  My circle may look like the one in the picture, full of twists and turns. It may be convoluted, but I ended up back where I was before Betty Boop showed up.

Wanting, or Needing? I Know My Answer

It was late. The pain was still raw, as if I’d had surgery done on my heart. The anger visceral, because it covered the pain. Demons gnawed at my very sinew, baring their bloody teeth. Some of them churned my stomach, like a hurricane in the middle of my body. My breath, my very breath, was being stolen from me. I could feel the fury coursing through my veins, my eyes and head and heart pounding in an evil dance.

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want to get in.” I said, to nobody. “Maybe I’ll go sleep on the couch. Then I won’t think of him. Sleeping with her, never with me again.” Although loathe to sleep in my bed, I knew I had to do put one leg in, then the other. Lay on the pillows that we used to share. I had to be comfortable in my own bed.

But first, I put on a nightgown. So I wouldn’t have visions of him, not next to me naked. Next to her naked. So I wouldn’t feel the luxury of the sheets on my skin. So I could avoid the worst pain.

I sat on the edge of the bed again. I had to know. “Is she sleeping in your bed?” I asked. “No.” I drew out some more anger, to mask the pain.

Sleeping pills and wine… I got a little sleep somehow.

I woke 2 hours later, it was 3 AM. I called him, but he wouldn’t answer. I wanted to know. I needed to know. How long had I been the fool?

I’m still the fool. Because I still let it hurt me. Because I still allow the anger to consume me. Because he’s not worth it, he’s never given me back anything. Yet, I sat there, sit here, empty. Wanting him to fill the void.

I guess I always did, and because he was here with me, I thought some day he would.

There’s always a lesson. Some people can’t. Just can’t, fill an emotional void. Some people run from the emotions. They don’t want to feel. So they numb. Numb with drugs, numb with alcohol, numb with cigarettes, numb with food. Some people numb the present by living in the past, because, you can rewrite your past. You can make a nightmare into a dream. Or a dream into a nightmare. And believe it.

I’m kind of getting it. Having someone who needs you to take care of them, keeps you from having to invest in them emotionally. “See, see what I did for you. How can you question my love for you?” “I gave you a kitchen, I bought you a car. Of course I love you.”

But something made her run, into the arms of another man. Who, of course, she didn’t even know, let alone love. A grown woman? No, an emotional teenager. And now she wants out, and of course, he will take care of it for her. Of course. It will prove that he loves her. Of course, it doesn’t prove that she loves him. It only proves that she needs  him.  Then when she runs again, after she is free….he can wear his pain like a badge, “All women hurt me. I don’t ever want to love again.”

All women, except me. I didn’t hurt him. But I didn’t want anything either. Except his love. That was it, that was all.  The one thing that he gives no one.  Not even himself.

But I’ll be gone. I’ll be in the arms and bed of someone who wants me, and doesn’t need to take care of me.

I don’t want to need anyone, nor do I want to be needed. But want, oh what a glorious thing that is, to want someone, and have them want you back. I’ll find him.

Disclaimer:  I don’t know for a fact that any of that about her is true.  It is my intuitions best guess.  Only time will tell.