A Friend Request

Scott now wants to be friends on FB. We have never been friends on FB. It has certainly been his demise. It’s how I found out who Betty was, where she worked, that he was with her too when I thought he was only with me.  (And she thought he was only with her.)

Apparently it’s over with her if he is willing for me to be seen in his friends list. Wow, lucky me.  That has always been a temporary situation anyway.

All I can say is, NO. He is offering up sloppy seconds to me, again. I don’t want them. He apparently does not realize that if he were my FB friend, my son and all my friends would see it. All the people who had to watch as he reduced me to a pile of mush, and played with me, and used me. The same people who told me over and over who he was and to leave him alone. The last time I told my son that I thought he might come to our house in CT, uninvited, my son said, “Just saying Mom, if he shows up in our driveway, I will walk over to his car and punch him in the face.” He was not kidding. I told him, “no, I’ll deal with it.” He said, “Just saying Mom. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

My son is the one who had to see me reduced to a slobbering pile of sobbing mess after he did the prison whore. He also had to watch me then again, 9 months later, when I got the text that instead of us being together for the weekend, he was going to be with “someone else” (Betty) and that he was “busy and didn’t want to talk about it.”

When I saw Scott a year ago, after Betty had found out about me, my son said, “What the FUCK is the matter with you Mom? This guy made you cry more than my dad did.”

And still I talked to Scott through the move down here, on the phone, even though he was still officially with Betty, though I haven’t seen him in over a year. Until a couple months ago, when I just got so sick of the games he plays. The disappearing act he pulls, and then comes back as if it never happened. I just got so tired of being messed with.

And now he wants to be FB friends.

He had never been a friend. He has been my lover and my adversary. He has been my teacher of hard lessons, he has been a soulful connection. But he was never a friend to me. I was one to him. Every dark day that I knew about, I tried to help him. When she found out about me, and left him, (temporarily…but that’s another story) I was there for him. I loved him so dearly, more than I ever thought possible. And he used that love to bolster his own ego. To take what he could from me. And give back nothing, nothing permanent, nothing that lasts. We could easily have stayed friends. But he chose not to.

And so we are not. Not on FB, not in life. Not in any way. When I hear from him now, I feel dread, I feel a foreboding. Feel like the darkness is knocking on my door again. Do I love him, yes….always. Can I have any semblance of him in my life? Absolutely not, at least, not the way he is.

We can all change. It is hard hard work, to change and grow. If at some point he was able to convince me, look me in the eye, and tell me what he’s done, what inner work he’s done to change from being an egocentric, selfish man to someone who actually can be a friend, I might listen. I might then open the door. If he could actually apologize to me, and to my son, for his shoddy treatment of me, I might listen. But it would have to be heartfelt, sincere. I am good with words. I am intuitive. I would know the difference. He will say he has apologized to me enough. But what good is an apology when the behavior continues, unabated?

When I went through my divorce, I didn’t date for 5 or 6 years. I went inside, I learned to go deep, I learned to look at myself and forgive myself, but that also implies that I changed. And I did. I’m not angry with Scott (or my ex for that matter). I am just saying that I can’t have in my life what he has brought to it for 2 years now. (The first year, up until he did the prison whore was good with him, even after that, it was good. Then came Betty.) I have joked that he should go to the monastery for 6 months, like he often said he was going to. It’s a journey he has to take by himself. Even if I was inclined to help him, I would not. There is never real growth without real pain. There is help…but you have to seek it out. And not seek it from me. Not look to have the gaping wounds once again soothed by me so life can go on the way it has for decades.

So, I write this knowing he will read it. I don’t want to open the doors of communication with him, because it’s not safe for me. I know that somewhere inside there, I still love him as I always did, and that I would just be hurt again. I need to heal, I need distance, emotional distance to match the now physical distance I have purposefully put between us. He needs to heal too, and see himself. And acknowledge his soul and his spirit and stop feeding his ego, which is doing a good job of killing him, and hurting everyone who loves him. When he does that, when he can realize that he too is a child of God, as deserving as all of us, he’ll be able to love himself, and forgive himself, and then he’ll have something to offer the people he wants in his life.

I wish him Godspeed on that journey should he choose to undertake it.

Love and light, everyone.

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Foolishness

To love beyond reason
Is kind of foolish,
She thought.
Though she had loved him like that
Forever.

There was no gain
Ever, in loving him,
Except
The joy that comes from having
A heart that’s full.

There was some game
To be played
But she could never
Understand the rules.
She never played it right.

She wasn’t a player
She was a lover.
Waiting
For a sign
That the game had ended.

But he disappeared.
His disappearance filled the void
Where once he lay
Beside her.
Now she wondered if he was real.

Were they, he and she, real
In the time-outs between rounds,
When playing stopped momentarily?
What was there?
Nothing? Or something?

There were times she grew weary
Of the game.
Times she said,
Go. I can’t play this game
Anymore.

Her heart aches still.
She waits for answers
As yet unspoken.
So she moves on,
And tries to love again.

Haiku No. 173: Where Light Cannot Reach (8 Parts)

where-light-cannot-see

You were ev’rything
To me. Sun, moon, heat, light and
Shadow. Also that.

Where light could not reach
You crept, with distorted truth
Filling the dark space.

Dazzling me, like light
I could not discern, at first.
I dreamed it was real.

You laughed, suffusing
Darkness disguised with strange glow
Sorrowful aching.

It’s taken me time
To eradicate your gloom
You’re strong in your fear.

But only light can
destroy the darkness, so go.
You can’t hurt me now.

You also can’t change
My belief in love’s power.
Still, I can see you.

Love needs no reason
to be unconditional.
Always, and all ways.

Beth Hart and Joe Bonamassa

When I went to Florida I stayed for a couple of nights with a friend from high school who lives in the town I’m moving to.  Turns out she’s been singing the blues at local places around there for over a year.  One of her favorite female blues singers is Beth Hart.  I have to sheepishly admit I did not know her.  My friend put on a few youtube videos of her, one was with Jeff Beck at the Kennedy Center honoring Buddy Guy. I realized I had seen it, live, because it was way tooo fabulous not to burn a spot into your psyche.

Needless to say, I’m looking forward, really forward, to going with my friend to see her sing.

Anyway after she played the Hart-Beck Kennedy Center video,  she “introduced” me to Joe Bonamassa, except when I heard him, I remembered that Scott had already introduced me to him, and I loved him.  One of those moments where we weren’t having sex, lol.  Listening to and discussing music.  With our clothes on!  (Ok sometimes we were naked, but not having sex, lol. Just sayin’ it wasn’t what some people wanted to believe it was!) OMG, and we did that with books too!  Anyway, my friend played the video below, and all I can think when I hear it, is damn…that was me last fall.  October 3.  And damn, I want to love someone else like that.  Except, I don’t want to ever have to watch him walk away again.

Listen to it…I bet you’ll feel the same.

Johnny, I Hardly Knew You

The hard thing is reconciling the man I loved, with the man he was.  I love the guy I loved so much.  It wasn’t him.  It’s hard to comprehend how I fooled myself for so long.  It’s hard to accept that I gave my heart away, to someone who didn’t want it, didn’t cherish it, didn’t even think of it as a gift but treated it like a burden.

Hard. Really hard.

But I’m getting through it, because I have clarity.  There is no mistaking the man who showed up last night, or the one who texted me to tell me he was going to be with someone else.  No mistaking that it wasn’t the man I love.

And I swear, yesterday he sent a few flirty, very sexual texts, followed by LOL.  It was his thing, it was, I thought, our thing.  It seemed inappropriate now.  I didn’t respond.  But I swear, what he thought was he might be able to get me to agree to see him while he’s seeing her.  You know, what’s wrong he said, with being with one person Tuesday and another one Friday? (With, like intimately)  I am pretty sure that he thought I’d have sex with him last night, because I was so bereft.

But I saw him, clearly.  I hugged him hello, and started to cry.  I didn’t sit by him.  I was almost doubled over most of the time, my stomach was so upset.  I am holding all of it in my sacral chakra, and it was on fire.  Sacral, the abdomen is where we hold our creativity, our sexuality, and as a result, our vulnerability.  I was hanging way out there on a limb, holding on for dear life, while he was defending his indefensible behavior.  I had known that he would not be able to ease the pain, and he didn’t.  He doesn’t know how to be compassionate, or kind, when he’s done something wrong.  It’s not intentional.  He just doesn’t know.  No one taught him, and he never tried to learn.  It was the same after the prison whore.  He couldn’t own up to the pain he caused there either.

Today he finally, in his last message, said he was really sorry I was so hurt.  SO WHAT.  He didn’t apologize for what he did to hurt me, not today, not ever.  He can’t own it.  Who care that he feels bad I was hurt.  What matters is that he was the one who caused the hurt, and couldn’t even own it.  He thinks whatever he does is ok, because he does it.  If you don’t like it, walk away.

Which I have done.  Not even reluctantly.

I still see his heart, which he has barricaded up so no one can get in, and he can’t get out, not even to comfort the woman who loved him.  He comes from the attitude of scarcity.  There’s not enough of him as it is, he’s not going to give any of it away.  He never learned that giving it away is the only way to get more.  Too bad.

He’s a really really cool but totally fucked up guy.  I will always love the man who he won’t let out.  But I see him, I see him.  The last thing I said was if he ever figures it out, he knows where I am.

I don’t expect to ever hear from him.