Tag Archives: Lies

Solitary Thoughts on Revenge, Truth, Happiness, and Love

Posted on by learning to live like water

 

your center

I was alone all day today, after my son went to work around noon. I was going to take a walk with a friend from my book club, but after I grocery shopped I was exhausted. I suppose because I only got about 4 hours sleep last night, and worked around the house changing sheets, doing laundry, cleaning windows, until I went to the store. So, I didn’t go for the walk.

I had a text conversation with the new guy from a dating site, and it went nowhere. Boring, lol. Might have been a scammer, Idk. But when he asked what I wanted in a man, I said, “Hmmm, funny, interesting, creative, maybe slightly outside the box like me. Someone I feel a connection with.” And that was the last I heard from him, lol. Literally. Not, “well it’s been nice talking to you”, nothing. Just disappeared. I wasn’t interested at all, so didn’t follow it up. Boring. Self absorbed.

I had asked him why he was single. Was he divorced, or widowed? He said, “Didn’t you read that in my profile?” Well, if I did I forgot….. Geezus, I didn’t memorize it! So when he asked me what I wanted in a man, I said, in the middle of the description, “This is all in my profile too, lol.” Trying to make him look at himself. Apparently, he didn’t like me or me throwing his words back at him.

God I can’t put up with crap, at all, any more. Geezus. Be real.

When I said it, what I wanted in a man, I was actually describing all the things I loved about S. Too bad he balances it with all lies, deception, unhealthy living, not being able to stand in his story, not being able to own his actions. And casting blame all around him rather than look it in the eye and deal with it. Too bad he can’t recognize and accept love, given to him just because he was. Too bad he had to assign motive to it. Well, there was a motive, then. To help him to be happy. That was all. I already was, am. I loved him enough, just to want him to be.

I doubt that he is, happy. I doubt he has what he wants, and I doubt he even knows what that is. I don’t think it’s what he professed it to be, or his behavior would have been different. He had some pie in the sky thing that was going to make him happy, but it wouldn’t have. Sooner or later he would have fucked it up again. Because he couldn’t/can’t be happy on his own. He couldn’t/can’t love himself. Neither she nor I, nor both of us together at the same time, could love him enough for him to love himself. No matter if we both loved him with every fiber of our being. It would never have been enough.

It makes me hurt for him. But it doesn’t make me want to unblock him on my phone. I can’t do it again with him. Even if that’s not on the table, I have no way of knowing, and I am not going to take the chance.

I talked on the phone to Montana, my friend who lives up there, this afternoon for about an hour, maybe longer. That was nice. She had me google these Arched Cabins. They are pretty cool, I gotta say, and inexpensive. We talked about books, about dating, about our men or lack of, about our abusive ex’s, our kids. Covered a lot of ground, lol.

But then I was alone again. I have to stay busy when I’m alone, that’s when it would be easiest to crack the door open to S again. Just unblock him to see if he tried to reach me. Or just leave him a message. Or an email. Or a text, to see if he’d answer. Or carry on a conversation with him in my head that I will never have. It’s when I’m home, and alone, especially if I’m tired, that he starts creeping into my psyche again.

So, I vacuumed. I washed the floors. I made some buffalo wings. I cut up some fruit. I fell asleep for about 20 minutes on the couch.

Now I’m watching Wild, which was such a wonderful book, and the movie is very true to the book. I’ve seen her, Cheryl Strayed, many times, mostly on OWN. She is one amazing woman.

She undertook walking the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail, the west coast equivalent of The Appalachian Trail on the east coast) because her life was a mess. She ruined her marriage cheating on her husband with anyone she met. She was a heroin addict for quite a while. So she walked this trail, by herself, about 2000 miles. She ended it a different person than she began.

I hope S can find his PCT, his journey out of the darkness. It’s my most sincere hope for him.

I know he thinks I posted the truth about our January together as revenge to him for saying he didn’t want me at his house. But it wasn’t revenge. It was for her, it was all for her, so she would know the truth he would never tell her. So she could decide, with all the facts in her hand, whether or not she really wanted to be with him or not. Maybe she did, maybe they reached some common ground. Maybe she walked away forever. Maybe she’s still stuck in limbo, loving a man who would screw her over because he has no center, no ability to make a good decision. No comprehension of right and wrong.  Loving a man who will always pick immediate gratification over the long term repercussions.  He’ll always deal with those if and when they show up.

I know she loved him. I know I loved him. Like I said before, it would never matter how much someone loved him. Until he can find his own light, and let it shine, no one can love him enough.

So I posted it for her. It had nothing to do with him. It was for her, I hoped she’d read it, and at least know the truth. I knew it would hurt. But not as much as finding out you’ve made a decision based on the lie that poured out of the mouth of someone you loved and wanted to trust. My mistake was thinking that love and trust went hand in hand. They should, but they don’t. Or didn’t, in this case.

He said all the right things to me during that short time. About changing, about living honestly. He confided many things to me that he had not before. I really had hope for him. Then the moment he was under pressure, he defaulted back to that underhanded man who can’t own his actions, who can’t stand in his story, who has to not be at fault for a situation he created.

And I knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I couldn’t have him in my life, no matter how much I loved him and wanted his happiness. I knew that at the end of the day, there would never be anything but endless pain for me if he was in my life.

It was small, compared to the betrayal of last summer. But it was the confirmation I needed. I needed to see if his words were real, or contrived to keep me in his bed, while he pulled himself together and figured out how to get her back. I got my answer. She told me, he can’t stand to be alone.

I don’t know if he is alone now or not. I am, but I’m ok with it. I can make myself happy. I have a rich full life without a man. Friends that call, that will go out with me. Things to do, things for which I have passion. I feel like I have a place in the world that I’m comfortable with.

I wish him well. I hope he finds some happiness, true, real happiness within himself before he dies. I hope she is well. I hope her heart is healing, and isn’t broken again. She’s still showing up on my FB page, I like to think that’s because we are friends on another level.

I suppose, considering the connection that I have always believed S and I have, that he and I are friends on some other level too.

So this blog has stretched out, lol. I guess I had a lot on my mind. Hope everyone has a nice evening. Or whatever it is, wherever you are. Love and light.

It Doesn’t Matter

Posted on by learning to live like water

Stock-footage-energy-sphere

I had a romantic notion, I guess, of what a twin flame was.  I was horrified to think that someone who is so wrought with his own emotional problems, deep-seated issues that he can’t figure out himself, that cause him to act in ways that are hurtful to himself and others, could be my twin flame. 

This morning, it doesn’t matter.  It is, what it is.  If he doesn’t mature spiritually, we will not connect in this lifetime.  That journey is his to travel.  I will continue on my path, he on his.  Maybe in some lifetime we will connect.  I don’t think in this one, though I can’t possibly know when we will connect. 

Maybe I’ll find out that he’s really not my twin flame.  Maybe there are coincidences after all, and none of them are signs.

Though, my intuition tells me differently.

The relationship with him is rife with signs, but if he doesn’t read them, and only I do, it doesn’t matter. Or, if he reads them but discredits them, it doesn’t matter.

My intuition tells me that it just doesn’t matter here, in the present moment, what his soulful relationship to me is. 

I’ll let it be.  I’ll trust my intuition to guide me through whatever comes up.  My purpose here is to evolve my soul.  I believe it’s everyone’s, but if it’s not recognized on a human level by someone else, even a twin flame, it doesn’t make any difference to me. 

Since we don’t talk, ever now, which is so weird really after communicating constantly all day every day, except when we were in a push away phase, I have no idea where his head is at.  It’s been since November 19 that I have talked to him.  Since the weight of the lies fell out of his mouth and onto my heart, and as he asked me to lie for him, to become what he was, and I had to tell him he was dead to me. 

He is not dead to me, as a soul.  His current choices, as a human, made him dead to me.  Until he can grow, and change.  I have wondered when I will hear from him again, thinking in months maybe.  Because I have been sure I will at some point.  But now?  Maybe not for years.  Maybe not until we move on from this life. 

It doesn’t matter anyway.  My life moves on, the way it was.  The path was moving forward nicely, and then he showed up and I stumbled and lost myself, spun arouand and around, because there were some lessons I needed to learn, and now my life goes on.

My friend to whom I gave Reiki texted me last night to tell me that the issue she had that brought her to me yesterday, had taken on a whole, different feeling.  The issue has to do with her sister, and is ongoing.  They talked, they both laughed, good healing belly laughs.  The issue remains, but my friend was able to support her sister, and lift her.  I was delighted.

My friend also has issues with her ankle.  It hurts her often and a lot.  She said it was killing her when she got here.  Last night she said she forgot about it, there was no pain from it at all.  I’m sure it’s not gone, the issue with her ankle, but I’m so happy she had some relief.

It is satisfying to be able to help people.  To reach outside my own issues, and leave them be.  To make a deeper connection with people close to me.

I found a great site for guided free meditations.  https://www.tarabrach.com/guided-meditations/     I did one this morning that was on “knowing”.  Takes you very deep, to rest in your knowing.  I found some peace there.  My solar plexus was very tight when I got there.  I did self-reiki on it, while I did the meditation.  It feels fine now.

I guess that the tightness was caused by left over emotions from last night’s twin flame revelation.  Right now, it means nothing, because we are apart, as we were before, and it’s not my job to wait for him to catch up, as my medium friend said.  It’s his to catch up. He doesn’t listen to his soul much, he doesn’t think he has one, or doesn’t think it’s connected to the loving energy of the universe. 

People will make any excuse for bad behavior won’t they?  If you can believe you are not connected then I suppose that gives you free rein to do whatever the heck your narcissistic ego tells you to. 

Not my problem.  It doesn’t matter.  I won’t bump into him again, unless he matures. 

 

 

 

Which Will You Be?

Posted on by learning to live like water

strength acourage

Strength

Measured in lies

Measured in pain caused

Measured in lives destroyed

Is weakness.

Is less than zero.

 

Strength

Measured in open hearts

Measured in joy given

Measured in lives connected

Is power.

Is heaven on earth.

 

Courage

Measured in willingness to lie

Measured in willingness to deceive

Measured in willingness to devastate

To crush, to harm

Isn’t courage.

It’s cheap cowardice.

It’s emptiness of a soul.

 

Courage

Measured in Willingness to to be honest

Measured in willingness to trust

Measured in willingness to show oneself

And be seen, truly be seen

Is courage.

It is wealth of spirit,

It is fullness of soul.

 

Which have you been

The weak morally bankrupt coward?

Or the courageous, powerful rich spirit?

 

Which are you?

 

Which will you be?

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.

 

 

 

Releasing the Past, With Love and Light

Posted on by learning to live like water

I did a meditation this morning on releasing the past.  Bits and pieces of memories still pop up from time to time, usually first thing in the morning, and I ask the universe, why?  He just so didn’t have to do that to me.

So, I’m trying to just find a way to let those memories come and go, and not unpack and take up a room in my psyche.  The guide in the meditation suggested re-framing those things, realizing that people who did things that hurt us were acting from their level of consciousness at the time.  Brene Brown, in her book Rising Strong, has a whole chapter on the debate as to whether or not people are doing the best they can.

When I went to the wedding in VA, a couple of weeks after I was devastated by S, I read that chapter of Brene’s book on the plane.  I had to stop reading, when I read that, and hugged the book to me and looked out the window, tears in my eyes.  I sent him a text, when the plane landed, and told him that I knew he was doing the best he could.  And so was I.

But that was before I found out that he’d been lying to me all summer.  That’s when I thought they had just gotten back together the weekend he dumped me.

Now I ask, do I have to still accept that he was doing the best he could?

Do I have to accept that when he would tell me he wanted to be alone, that he didn’t want a loving relationship right now, he wanted to find himself, all the while the truth having been that he was seeing Betty Boop on the weekend, that he was doing the best that he could?  When I would tell him to let me go, and he would ask me not to go, when he would tell me how he missed me, and come to see me, all the while lying to me, and to her, was he doing the best he could?

Do I have to accept that?

It seems naive.  It seems false.  He knew neither of us would share him, if we knew.  And he played us both to keep us in his life.  He played me harder than her, because she had no idea he was doing anything other than spending Saturday night with her.  She had no desires that weren’t getting met, she had no longing he wasn’t fulfilling.  I had them every day, and every day I had to hear what I now know was another lie as to why he wasn’t available.  I was far more work…and got far less.

But back to the question, was he doing the best he could?

I wish I could say yes.  I wish I could say yes, and just forgive it and move on from it.  Sometimes I can.  More and more of the time.  But sometimes I say, this is a smart man. It was one of the things I loved about him, was how smart he was, how he could discuss almost anything, could solve problems, could fix things.  This is a man with whom I was so clear…he would get aggravated with me for saying the same thing over and over in a million different ways to make sure he understood me.  I never wanted to hear from him, or another man, that they didn’t know how I felt.  He knew, unequivocally, how I felt.  And how Betty felt for that matter.  At least, that’s what he told me back at the beginning of our relationship, that she had told him that she wouldn’t tolerate him cheating on her.

Was he doing the best he could?  God, I hope not.  I hope he knows better than to treat people he loves in that way.  There was no honor, no respect, not even a tiny bit of love for either of us, in his actions.  It was just self-serving, it was stealing our love, and our energy, to fill his holes.

Perhaps therein lies the problem.  His holes.  He has so many….and I knew of them.  He told me.  He told me so many things, of his past.  Things that were horrible, that he lived through.  That he did.  Things that he swore he’d never told another soul, and didn’t know why he was telling me.  I still will hold his confidence, and never tell a soul those things.   I never judged him for any of it.  It was all in the past, way past, and I always felt that his experiences made him into the man I loved.  Let me say, though, that the knowledge of these things, allowed me to always see his inner child, the one who just wanted to be loved like all children do.  I gave him an inner child crystal early in our relationship, after he told me some of these things, which he used to keep next to his bed.  When we broke up over the prison whore, I think it was, he threw it into the river near his house.

I suppose it doesn’t matter how smart he is.  I suppose that what happened to him, and the way he acted out on it in his lifetime don’t have anything to do with his ability to solve problems, and do the work he does.  Emotionally, with me and Betty, he was doing the best he could.  He had two women who loved him the way he always wanted to be loved, unconditionally.  Although, I can’t speak for her.  I can only speak for me.  He didn’t want to lose that, but he knew he couldn’t keep us both if we knew about the other.  He lied and lied, to create a false world, a different world for each of us, so we would stay in his life, and continue to love him.  Fear…of losing what felt so good to him.  What is not love, is fear.

The answer is, yes, I guess he was doing the best he could.   The best he could was destined to eventually blow up in his face.  And mine.  And hers.  It was destined to absolutely devastate me.  I assume it did Betty also.  I think it has more than anything devastated S, because he now has neither of us (unless Betty has forgiven him, but I kinda don’t think that’s happened….) and has none of that unconditional love that he had.

If he had been honest with me in the beginning, when he began the song and dance about wanting to be alone,  we would still be friends. If he had just told me that then they had talked and he really wanted to see if they had a future. That he still had a lot of feelings for her.  If he had just been honest.   We would still be talking.  The hurt would have just been hurt, it never would have turned to anger, it never had to affect Betty at all.

I told him, so many times, that I would always love him.  That the love I gave to him he could take to the grave with him.  My heart still aches for that child, the one who steered the riverboat right into the deep and was lost.  My heart also sees the grown man, who denied the light, who fought for the darkness, who chose to allow his darkness to hurt people who loved him.  That was a choice.  No matter what he felt emotionally, he knew it was wrong.  He should have made another choice.

He can’t undo what he has done.  He can only make different choices going forward.  As can I.  I have to, as the meditation suggested, re-frame his actions, realizing that what he did reflected his level of consciousness at that time.   The pain is down to the level of a thorn stuck in my thumb every once in awhile, that needs extracting. I keep wondering why I keep grabbing the thornbush, and don’t just walk away from it.

I’ll attempt to do that, so that I can fully let it go, with love and light.  I can wish for him, that in his final years, he will welcome the light that I always saw in him, that he will learn to love himself enough to make himself proud from here on out.  To make decisions that he can live with, to be honorable, because I know right now, he’s having a hard time living with what he did to us.

Love and compassion are, apparently, and gratefully, my default settings, and I’ll return to those.

Love and light S. May you someday see the light in you that was always so apparent to me.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

The Dark Parade

Posted on by learning to live like water

Waking

In the still dark early morning hours.

I lay in my warm bed,

Snuggled under clean sheets and  comforter

And watch the parade of your lies

Pass in front of my eyes

As I loved you beyond limit and reason.

Why? Oh why?

What good was ever going to come of the lies?

One piled on the other.

Unnecessary.  Specious.

People crushed, hearts and souls

Scattered in pieces across the landscape.

Is that piece mine?  Maybe that one is hers.

I can’t tell them apart.

I see you in the distance

The child in the riverboat

Caught in the whirlpool

Of the lies.

No one to save you.

You left us bleeding on the shore,

Still searching for the pieces.

Three lives

Forever changed.

Shattered

By the lies.

I want to go back to sleep

In the silent darkness

And forget

How I loved you

In the face of your lies.

Grateful for daybreak

chasing the dark parade away.

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.

 

Bed of Lies

Posted on by learning to live like water

You got away with the first lie.

The others were so easy, weren’t they?

It became fun for you,

To play a game with my heart.

To see how long you could juggle two of us

Before it blew up.

You wanted to be “alone”

“Discover who you were.”

Then when I knew she was back in your life

You were only “talking.”

Yeah, talking while you fucked on Saturday night.

You had already been “talking” for months.

In your bed. Or hers.

And still fucking me.

A week before you pushed me off the cliff

And watched as I splattered across the ground far below,

you said, you were still talking, “a little”.

The lies were so easy,

They flow like dirty water from your mouth.

5 days before you broke me into 1000 pieces,

You told me to forget about the past,

That things can change for us,

“XOXOXOX”

That the future could look bright.

She was out of your bed

About 2 hours.

The lies piled one on the other.

The set up, to shatter my soul was complete.

Even 4 days ago…

“I miss you a lot.

Many times I think I made a terrible mistake.”

You enjoyed fucking with my head

As much as my body.

And for her, one big lie….

That she was the only one.

The light was so bright it was painful

But now, it’s illuminated her path and mine

Away from you

And your bed of lies.