Here is what set me back so far yesterday.
Wednesday night I put up the blog about how far I’d come in 5 days, so far that the realization that I will never see him again did not hurt. I was glad to get to a place where that didn’t hurt me.
I forgot, momentarily, that he reads my blog. I hate that he reads them, it makes me measure my words. It is like a censor, I don’t feel like I can write down my real feelings all the time. Especially now. I am already too vulnerable to him. He already had proven he doesn’t deserve to hear my story. I was hoping that since he now had Betty Boop and had thrown me out of his life like yesterday’s trash that he would stop reading them. (I’ve chosen to just write down what I feel this morning, and let happen whatever will happen from putting it all out on the table.)
But he read it. He sent me an email, since texting is cut off to him, saying something like ” You might get carpal tunnel from patting yourself on the back.” I deleted it, with no response. I would have liked it if he were happy I had come so far in healing from his unfathomable betrayal. But no, he was a smart ass. He didn’t like that I was healing. He prefers me hurting.
I went to bed around my normal time, 10, and read, and then tried to get to sleep. I was almost asleep when a friend texted me. When I opened the phone, it opened to voice mail, I don’t know why, I must have accidentally left it on VM. I saw a blocked voice mail, which could only have been S. I listened (big mistake) to him say, “I don’t know what to say. I really miss you.”
This is 5 days after he completely and totally devastated me, decimated our relationship. Chose Betty Boop. 5 days after he texted me at 4 am, and followed up with a text telling me he was spending the weekend with her. 5 days later, he misses me.
All I could think is HOW DARE HE? HOW DARE HE?
Naturally, I didn’t sleep much. maybe 3, 3 1/2 hrs.
It infuriated me. He was simply playing with my emotions. A manipulation to make me think about him. He didn’t like that I could think about never seeing him again and not hurt over it, so he stuck a knife in the wound again, so that I would hurt again.
Cruel. Heartless. Selfish beyond belief.
He didn’t say, “I made a mistake. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. I’m not with her.” He just said he misses me.
Duh. Of course he misses me. I was the one, the only one, in his entire life to unconditionally love him. Adore him. Accept him. Ask nothing of him. I knew he would miss me. He knew he would miss me. Who cares? He did what he did, he can’t undo it. I told him there is no way back from this, when he did it. There is not. There is no way back to where we were. He created an abyss, and whether or not he is happy with his decision, he made it. We both have to live with it.
So yesterday my anger was renewed. My healing had to start all over again. The gaping bleeding wound in my heart, that actually physically hurts, had to begin all over again. What kind of monster does this to someone? Does he think so little of himself, that he doesn’t believe he can have any effect on people? No. He knows, if he knows anything, that I loved him more than ever at the moment he broke me. He knows what he’s doing.
My posts yesterday were meant to tell him to leave me alone. I knew that the pain was going to follow the anger, it always does. I hoped it would be during the gong bath, but it was really this morning. Apparently I wasn’t ready last night, to accept and deal with the pain.This morning, I remembered how much I wanted to be with him, Friday night. How I sent him a text, telling him I would drive down to his house Friday night, I missed him, wanted to be with him so much. Maybe he was talking to her then. I don’t know. I don’t want to know.
I have wondered, since he texted me when she left Sunday, and now with the voice mail, if maybe the reunion didn’t go quite the way he dreamed it would. That maybe once you have had someone really love you, whatever she offered wasn’t enough. I will never know, I don’t want to know.
I know, that I can never ever expose my heart to him again. There is no trust, there is only hurt when I think of him. There is only the knowledge that he can throw me away at a moments notice, first he prison whore, then the bimbo. There is only the knowledge that he chose the woman who devastated him, over me, the woman who loved him without limit. And that he was able to make that choice with as much cruelty as possible. That he could crush me, without a tender word, without acknowledgment of anything decent. Just telling me what he wanted.
So, does it hurt me to think I will never see him again? No. It is actually a relief. A relief to know that he won’t have the opportunity to ever again crush my heart. His voice set me back to the beginning, made me re-ask all the questions I had realized were not answerable, and that I didn’t even want answers to. I had to go back and now work myself back to the place where I know that nothing he can say can fix what he did.
If he decided he made a mistake choosing her, so what? So if it wasn’t the dream reunion, and she couldn’t and didn’t want to fix him, or be accountable for what she’d done to him, so what? And I don’t even know her side of the story, but I know if he did something to her, for which she was getting revenge when she took off on him when he was sick, to actually marry someone she’d cheated on him with, after taking him for all she could, I know that he cannot be accountable for his part. He never can. And who cares what happened if anything with the reunion? Because in the mean time, he killed us. He broke me and he broke us in such a way that I know I am better off without him, and the pieces of our relationship cannot be put back together. There is nothing there. He pulverized it, with his cruelty. I’ve said right along he’d have been happy to have kept us both. Maybe that’s all his message was. An attempt to keep me on the side while he spends his weekends with her.
Do I still love him? Yes, I will always love him. That’s unconditional love. Do I forgive him? I was getting there, but now, with his “I really miss you” message, I have to start that journey all over again. But I’ll get there. Because that’s what I do. Hate and anger and pain will kill you. It is taking poison and thinking someone else will die.
Not right now, though, not yet. Not since he had to re-open the gaping wound that hadn’t even stopped bleeding yet.
The gong bath helped. What happened during it was not what I expected, but it never really is. I was in a deep, and very tired meditation. There was a good chance I’d fall asleep, but that didn’t happen. My friend led us into the meditation, with the guided imagery of a white light surrounding us. That light stayed with me, and soothed me. It told me, literally, that I was beautiful, that I was love, that I was loved, that I was worthy of love. I visualized S on a cloud with me, and I said everything I needed to say, without anger. I gently pushed him off my cloud, and thought, hoped, expected I would watch him drift away, out of sight. Last night he would not drift away. He just floated around me. Hard as I tried to energetically push him out of sight, I could not.
Not quite far enough in my healing. The white light comforted me though.
On the way home, I said out loud, “S, I need you to leave me alone. I need this to heal. Please please leave me alone.” Because his energy around me was palpable. And I swear, I swear, I heard his voice say, “I can’t leave you Deb. I can’t”
Could have been my imagination.
When I went to bed last night, I decided to sent him a text saying “You have a tremendous amount of nerve to leave me that voice mail 5 days after you decimated me and our relationship. I’d appreciate it if you would not attempt any further contact with me. You’ve got your bimbo. You don’t need me. And I don’t want you,you made sure of that.”
I know that it might not have been the right thing to do. I know that no contact is probably a healthier choice, to just let it all go. But I just want there to be no mistake in his head. I want to make sure he understands that I don’t want to hear from him, that there is n.o. w.a.y. b.a.c.k. from what he did. And I don’t want to have to start this process over every fucking day.
This morning, there is pain again. I knew it would come, I also know when I have sat with it, and honored it, it will go. I hope it goes soon.
At least he was silent last night. For that I am grateful.
As Liz Gilbert always says, “Onward.”
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