I was up crying all night long. The devastation invaded my sleep. A thing that used to be safe from all my worries besides the occasional nightmare in my pre-breakup life. But now I was living it. I wake up every 2 hours thinking it was all a dream, only to realize this is my reality. This nightmare, all along under the surface, occasionally, okay, not occasional if I am being completely honest, reared its ugly head and now was the monster I always knew of, standing on its hind legs taunting me, torturing me, and trying to defeat me. This is real and this is really happening. But for today, I cannot go to battle with it. Day one drained me of all my fight. My armor broken to pieces at my feet and my arsenal to defend myself, depleted. I will face this, I will conquer and kill this fucking beast. But not today. Every warrior needs a break in the battle and today is that day. I will wait for reinforcements and eventually conquer that sonofabitch.
A friend came to my rescue. Took me to a her home in the countryside so I could escape the place I had tainted with the pain of day one. I could not sit in the same dark room with the marks of my tears on the pillow next to me. I had to change my geography even if it would not change my heart. So we left and started our journey to her sanctuary. But not before we stopped for the essentials: cigarettes, ice cream, candy, pizza, fried snacks galore, 2 dvd's (no love stories, of course) and the ingredients for a vat of sangria.
My addiction to him continued. The obsessive checking of my email, facebook online status updates, looking to see if he was online, looking at my phone every other second and even calling it from the landline to make sure I could get calls. My connection to him, although severed, is still holding out for hope.
When I left him early saturday morning, we did not speak. When we spoke at noon on day one he was very cold, matter of fact and manipulative. Why don't I believe him? If I can't believe him, he said, then we shouldn't be together. He was in public and meeting a friend for lunch, and said he would call me back before he left to go to a party. One we were supposed to go to together. Lucky him. While I am left crying and devastated, HE GOES TO A PARTY?! But this is typical of his selfish ways and the standard procedure of our relationship: me doing the work, him reaping the benefits. But he never called and I knew I would not hear from him until the weekend was over or the bars were closed- which ever came first. So that meant, today was a wash and my fix would not come until Monday. The withdraws did not happen because I knew I would be hearing from him after he decided to curb his bender.
The rehashing of the incident commenced. As my poor friend sat through the exhausting task of having to listen to all this bullshit, I could see her politely trying to hide her expressions of exasperation and disgust. Exasperation and disgust for the intensity of the situation or shock that I was putting up with this for so long, I do not know. Mind you, I have always carried myself as the one who has it all together.
A little about me: I am a mid 20's girl who is average height, weight and have been told I am good looking. Ok, I have been told I was beautiful and that I could have any man I wanted. I used to aim high, seek the unattainable types just to see if I could land them and never had a problem doing so. I am not sure if that is due to my determination, wit, or my sexual prowess. Nevertheless, if I set my sights on something I wanted, a job, a man, the lifestyle I wanted to live, I was never deficient in tools of the trade needed to attain what I sought. So you can imagine the confusion when I tell people of my predicament and am finally honest about how bad it truly was. I was never a woman who had to beg their lover to have sex with her. Plead for him to touch me, love me and fulfill my needs.
His continual rejection of my sexual advances, my pleas for change, attention and love, broke me down to a person who I no longer recognize. I do not know the face that stares back at me in the mirror. My old self would kick this bitch's ass and tell her to get it together. She would pity this weak person who put up with all this shit. And in response all this person could do is cower and think that I somehow deserved all this. That I was undeserving of his love. That I was ugly and no wonder he didn't want to have sex with me: you gained 8 pounds and are disgusting! He wouldn't even set a side a night for the two of us to connect...and when he reluctantly did the bare minimum to keep me, promising me romance, he would fall asleep, cleverly getting out of the chore of having to touch my repulsive body. Why else would he not want me? The only rational conclusion I could come up with is that he was no longer attracted to me because I was disgusting and downright pathetic.
So distraction from all these emotions and reality, for now, is my only defense. Stare at the flat screen, pretend to be following the plots of the movies and shove fried food in my increasingly fat and disgusting body. Why not? He didn't want me then, is not fighting for me now and I know nothing will change tomorrow.
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