All hopeful women around the world have heard the myth about the man who was cheating on his wife, said he was going to leave, actually left her for the other woman and they lived happily ever after. Or the guy who was an infamous womanizer, player type who changed his stripes for the right woman. The guy who never did this or that and was given an ultimatum and then suddenly changed. These things never happen and are as likely as discovering the Loch Ness Monster or Sasquatch. Yet they serve as reasons many woman hold out, give chances and cling to hope. However, I found this flying pig in my dear friend. He actually did change his ways, has a baby and is finally living up to his potential, being the man I always knew he had underneath his scum baggery, treating his woman with love and respect.
I spent the day with them, at their new home and talked with her about my whole situation. She was very realistic and told me of all the trials and tribulations she went through with him. Her doubts, her fears, the crushing pain of walking away and having him come back. I tell this story not to give more false hope or disillusion myself with the idea that mine would ever change. But because it gave me hope that some men can eventually grow up. Although selling themselves out for a single life, depriving their lives from what is truly sustainable and fulfilling, can realize that its not worth it in the end. It was nice to see it for once. However, my friend and I both concluded that this is not something to look for, hope for or even consider. Because it's a waste of time and is usually a futile endeavor. Why go through all that when you can find someone who is on the same page as you and does not need commitment boot camp?
I have always considered giving the men in my life second, third, fourth chances. One day my Mom asked me what is the point? Why work on fixing what is broke when you can start fresh with someone who doesn't need another chance or who hasn't violated the relationship? From now on, when I am ready, I will pay attention to the red flags. I will walk away when I see them and not listen to the voice in my head that says not everyone is perfect. Because these red flags in the beginning become road blocks and, in my case, a 100 car pile up that one can only hope to survive and limp away from.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Day Twenty-Nine: Initiative (Sept 10th)
My ex's infidelity has caused me to experience constant anxiety. I am haunted by reliving days that I have recently discovered what he was really doing. What I was doing. Our conversations. His lies to continue his clandestine role of deceit and lascivious behavior. One thing I have learned, and am desperately trying to implement, is that I can control my thoughts, behavior and how I react to outside stimuli. I cannot control others, but I can work on controlling myself and take action towards healing. Part of my anxiety is not only due to the worry of what he has done to my emotional health, but to my physical and mental health as well. So I took initiative and made an appointment with my doctor to get tested for ALL STD's. I am also going to look into other some options to deal with my depression and its consequent friend named Anxiety. This worry is something that I CAN eliminate right now. I can control my actions, I can take charge and try to make a change. So I did.
Last time I went and spoke to someone about my depression and anxiety, they treated me like I was an alien and overreacting. Not exactly the best way to treat a girl who's father just died and is having a hard time coping. But this time, I was treated with compassion and felt like I was actually being heard. WHAT A CONCEPT! Listen and treat the patient. I had all the text book signs of depression and anxiety. I was prescribed the appropriate meds, one for depression, one to address my sleep issues, and one for my panic attacks.
It was a small step towards battling these demons, but I am taking it and doing what I can. This alone, settled me a bit. I found out in 15 agonizing minutes that I do not have HIV which was comforting. I will find out about the rest in due time. I have no reason to think I have anything, no symptoms...that is other than the fact my ex was having sex with desperate sluts and I doubt he used condoms.
After this my girlfriend picked me up and we went to a fashion night out on the town at Neiman Marcus. We had a ball looking at all the beautiful people and the silly examples of San Franciscans attempting to be socialites or at least emulate the image. The absurdity of people in this uber liberal city, clinging to hopes of resembling the upper-east siders or hollywood types, who have the velvet rope forever open, while going green and protesting against "the man," is ironic and increasingly entertaining with every stiletto that clicks by.
With this irony, we left all the fabulosity, went back to her house, equipped with burritos and just spent the evening dishing about all topics, laughing at it all. I felt a glimmer of happiness seeping back into my soul...and I haven't even started my meds.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Day Twenty-Eight: Steps Forward? (Sept. 9th)
Just like yesterday, I found myself completely losing myself in space and time. I laid in my bed, tears falling down my face, screaming with agony into my pillow. I don't know how long this continued but before I knew it, the sun was going down and night was beginning to fall. I was lost in an abyss of pain. So confused and bewildered at his ability to hurt me so badly. To be capable of such deception and how he could hold me, tell me he wants to work on being a better man to me while continuing to engage in such lascivious behavior. And how I could stand by my man, despite all his shortcomings, loving him for everything he is and isn't, trying so hard to make our relationship work.
All these thoughts dominated my every second. My world consists of only pain. It's as if my entire self doesn't exist. I am a walking sack of skin and everything inside has vanished. The only evidence that I am alive are my constant tears and feeling pain. Without the two, I could seriously convince myself that I am not alive. How was I ever going to get back to where I was? Who am I anymore? Will I ever feel normal?
My family is very concerned about me. My Mother calls me daily, hearing me answer the phone, barely being able to hold a conversation between my sobs. She told me that I should consider going to an Al Anon meeting so I could speak with other people who have been affected by addiction and the inevitable behavior that comes with being in a relationship with someone who is afflicted with the disease. I did not want to worry her, so I decided to give it a shot. Maybe it can help?
Reluctantly, I went to this all women meeting, rationalizing that I could not open up about a man that destroyed me in a room with another man present. In fact, I am terrified when a man speaks to me that I know is showing interest. I automatically think they want to hurt me or are only speaking lies and want to use me for their pleasure. I hope this fear dissipates. I do not like living my life in fear of anything that is so unavoidable and what used to bring me joy.
The meeting was very beneficial. I heard a few women share stories that I could relate to. In fact, they were pretty much telling my story. The reading we focused on that night, step one, was an eye opener. Basically, its the fact that we are powerless to their disease. We cannot control their drinking, their behavior or any of their decisions. And, it does not matter how hard we try. This was very freeing and made me realize I have been giving my life up to try and control everything in our relationship because I knew his drinking was ruining us. It was tearing us apart and all I would ever do is drop everything, be around, try to curb his drinking, be understanding, supportive etc. His drinking dominated my world and every effort and ounce of my energy.
Hearing this saved me from having all the doubts I have been carrying in my heart. It was not my fault. There is nothing that I could have done. And it didn't matter how much I tried: He was going to do what he was going to do no matter what. Even if I were the best woman on the planet, there was no stopping him from being who he is, engaging in destructive behavior and making the decisions he makes. This gave me a little comfort. These days, that is better than nothing. And just for a moment, I felt like I was actually alive. Relief briefly replaced my pain and I felt free. That was until I exited the meeting and saw him going the opposite direction on the bus, passing right by me. Then, all the pain came back. I feel like I am dying.
All these thoughts dominated my every second. My world consists of only pain. It's as if my entire self doesn't exist. I am a walking sack of skin and everything inside has vanished. The only evidence that I am alive are my constant tears and feeling pain. Without the two, I could seriously convince myself that I am not alive. How was I ever going to get back to where I was? Who am I anymore? Will I ever feel normal?
My family is very concerned about me. My Mother calls me daily, hearing me answer the phone, barely being able to hold a conversation between my sobs. She told me that I should consider going to an Al Anon meeting so I could speak with other people who have been affected by addiction and the inevitable behavior that comes with being in a relationship with someone who is afflicted with the disease. I did not want to worry her, so I decided to give it a shot. Maybe it can help?
Reluctantly, I went to this all women meeting, rationalizing that I could not open up about a man that destroyed me in a room with another man present. In fact, I am terrified when a man speaks to me that I know is showing interest. I automatically think they want to hurt me or are only speaking lies and want to use me for their pleasure. I hope this fear dissipates. I do not like living my life in fear of anything that is so unavoidable and what used to bring me joy.
The meeting was very beneficial. I heard a few women share stories that I could relate to. In fact, they were pretty much telling my story. The reading we focused on that night, step one, was an eye opener. Basically, its the fact that we are powerless to their disease. We cannot control their drinking, their behavior or any of their decisions. And, it does not matter how hard we try. This was very freeing and made me realize I have been giving my life up to try and control everything in our relationship because I knew his drinking was ruining us. It was tearing us apart and all I would ever do is drop everything, be around, try to curb his drinking, be understanding, supportive etc. His drinking dominated my world and every effort and ounce of my energy.
Hearing this saved me from having all the doubts I have been carrying in my heart. It was not my fault. There is nothing that I could have done. And it didn't matter how much I tried: He was going to do what he was going to do no matter what. Even if I were the best woman on the planet, there was no stopping him from being who he is, engaging in destructive behavior and making the decisions he makes. This gave me a little comfort. These days, that is better than nothing. And just for a moment, I felt like I was actually alive. Relief briefly replaced my pain and I felt free. That was until I exited the meeting and saw him going the opposite direction on the bus, passing right by me. Then, all the pain came back. I feel like I am dying.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Day Twenty-Seven: Drone (Sept. 8th)
In the morning I was woken up by my cell phone ringing. It was one of our mutual friends. He called to ask me to be kind and think twice before I retaliate against my ex or the woman who he slept with....Uh, excuse me? YOU ARE ASKING ME FOR MERCY?! I don't think so. He rationalized that he wants all parties to emerge from this unscathed and without any more damage. So forget about me and the fact that I am not only scathed, I was side-swiped, steam-rolled and shot in the chest!
This was all in response to an email I sent this old hag. I told her that I knew and to go the other way when she sees me (quick side-note: I have been beating up bullies and bitches for over a decade and this was not an empty threat coming from a chihuahua, I am a certified pit bull and everyone knows this)...and that I hope her papers are straight because otherwise she could soon find herself on the potato farm back in her homeland of Ireland. And that if I were as ugly as her, I, too, would use an icon as my profile photo on Facebook, and thank you for sparing us the trauma of having to look at her ugly, haggard face adorned with brown crooked teeth. Yes, I was angry. Yes it was a bit juvenile. But so is a 52 year old sleeping with a 27 year old's boyfriend. This woman pretended to be my friend. And what the FUCK is this chick doing hanging in the same places as people my age? When I am in my fifties, my scene is going to be the P-T-motherfucking-A, philanthropy or being a lady who lunches. Not rap shows, dive bars and strip clubs. So you know what? Fuck her. And fuck him and fuck this person with the nerve of trying to get me to show these heartless people mercy. Not a chance.
I did, however, realize that I am better than this. I remembered the monster this whole thing was making me turn into. I do not want to be this person. So I went to the gym, worked my butt off, ran 7 miles, did 1000 crunches and went home to the misery that was bound to follow me.
I found myself losing space in time. I came home from the gym, sat on my couch, pondering every detail of our entire relationship from beginning to end, not noticing the shows on TV move to commercials, to another show, to more commercials and so on. Before I knew it, it was dark. I had not moved, ate, drank or even noticed if I was breathing. Once I realized this, I was terrified. It felt like days had passed and I was in the same place, without even having shifted in my seat. If I had, I was unaware that I did. I looked at my cell and had 3 missed calls. Did I mention my cell phone was on loud?
Was this some sort of weird depressive zen state I had reached? No. There was no enlightenment or shred of peace. It was chaos. It was as if I had been screaming in my head, the clamor of pain and torture had made me senseless. I don't remember seeing, hearing, smelling or breathing. It was as if I was not on earth for the last 5 hours. But here I am. And all I can say is that at this moment, is I wish that I wasn't.
This was all in response to an email I sent this old hag. I told her that I knew and to go the other way when she sees me (quick side-note: I have been beating up bullies and bitches for over a decade and this was not an empty threat coming from a chihuahua, I am a certified pit bull and everyone knows this)...and that I hope her papers are straight because otherwise she could soon find herself on the potato farm back in her homeland of Ireland. And that if I were as ugly as her, I, too, would use an icon as my profile photo on Facebook, and thank you for sparing us the trauma of having to look at her ugly, haggard face adorned with brown crooked teeth. Yes, I was angry. Yes it was a bit juvenile. But so is a 52 year old sleeping with a 27 year old's boyfriend. This woman pretended to be my friend. And what the FUCK is this chick doing hanging in the same places as people my age? When I am in my fifties, my scene is going to be the P-T-motherfucking-A, philanthropy or being a lady who lunches. Not rap shows, dive bars and strip clubs. So you know what? Fuck her. And fuck him and fuck this person with the nerve of trying to get me to show these heartless people mercy. Not a chance.
I did, however, realize that I am better than this. I remembered the monster this whole thing was making me turn into. I do not want to be this person. So I went to the gym, worked my butt off, ran 7 miles, did 1000 crunches and went home to the misery that was bound to follow me.
I found myself losing space in time. I came home from the gym, sat on my couch, pondering every detail of our entire relationship from beginning to end, not noticing the shows on TV move to commercials, to another show, to more commercials and so on. Before I knew it, it was dark. I had not moved, ate, drank or even noticed if I was breathing. Once I realized this, I was terrified. It felt like days had passed and I was in the same place, without even having shifted in my seat. If I had, I was unaware that I did. I looked at my cell and had 3 missed calls. Did I mention my cell phone was on loud?
Was this some sort of weird depressive zen state I had reached? No. There was no enlightenment or shred of peace. It was chaos. It was as if I had been screaming in my head, the clamor of pain and torture had made me senseless. I don't remember seeing, hearing, smelling or breathing. It was as if I was not on earth for the last 5 hours. But here I am. And all I can say is that at this moment, is I wish that I wasn't.
Day Twenty-Six: Rage (Sept. 7th)
I woke up and once again, thought that it was just a nightmare. But no, it did really happen. He slept with a nasty 52 year old hag and lied. He lied about everything. He tried to keep me under false pretenses. Would continually say to me that he may have faults but he never cheated on me. That he never slept with anyone else. All LIES!! Anxiety and darkness crashed down on me. I was covered in sorrow. Feeling constant anxiety and doom. I could not understand how he could do this to me. Rage was beginning to step in and I wanted answers.
I incessantly texted him with insults, wanting answers, threatening him. I was consumed by this anger, his betrayal, questions of how he could be so deceitful? How could I have ever been so dumb to believe him? I was so angry.
There was nothing to fix this. I was broken and angry. I cannot even explain what it feels like to experience such betrayal. Especially from a person who you gave your entire life to. I gave him my everything. There was nothing that I would not have done. I was hopelessly devoted to a man who did not honor or love me back. These emotions are the worst feelings I have ever experienced. He ripped my heart out of my chest and was feeding off of it to get by...and never even gave two thoughts about what he was doing to me. How could he?
I went on Facebook, posted a picture of this nasty hag and captioned it with something to the effect of: She is hot and sexy. My ex thought so. I would cheat on me with her too! It sparked a frenzy of commentary, all about how sick this girl is, how gross he is for doing this to me and so forth. After 24 hours, I took it down. I had accomplished what I wanted: for him to be exposed.
The world needs to know what kind of man this is. And how low he is to do this to a woman who loved him. Every girl needs to know what he is capable of. When you are dealing with a person who clearly has no conscience or care for the affect their actions have on those in their life, the only thing left to do is to threaten their livelihood and their reputation. Because at the end of the day, all they really care about is themselves. This picture accomplished that. And I had texted him some things that made him think his boss was going to find out the kind of scum he has working for him. I never did this of course. I just wanted him to experience a smidgen of the mental anguish his actions have caused me by threatening his livelihood.
In the end, none of this helped me heal one bit. I don't have a clue how I am going to get through this and I don't know if I will ever be the same. I feel like I was walking on the road of life and someone came in, stole my resources and raped my soul. This is not what was supposed to happen. How will I ever heal from this?
I incessantly texted him with insults, wanting answers, threatening him. I was consumed by this anger, his betrayal, questions of how he could be so deceitful? How could I have ever been so dumb to believe him? I was so angry.
There was nothing to fix this. I was broken and angry. I cannot even explain what it feels like to experience such betrayal. Especially from a person who you gave your entire life to. I gave him my everything. There was nothing that I would not have done. I was hopelessly devoted to a man who did not honor or love me back. These emotions are the worst feelings I have ever experienced. He ripped my heart out of my chest and was feeding off of it to get by...and never even gave two thoughts about what he was doing to me. How could he?
I went on Facebook, posted a picture of this nasty hag and captioned it with something to the effect of: She is hot and sexy. My ex thought so. I would cheat on me with her too! It sparked a frenzy of commentary, all about how sick this girl is, how gross he is for doing this to me and so forth. After 24 hours, I took it down. I had accomplished what I wanted: for him to be exposed.
The world needs to know what kind of man this is. And how low he is to do this to a woman who loved him. Every girl needs to know what he is capable of. When you are dealing with a person who clearly has no conscience or care for the affect their actions have on those in their life, the only thing left to do is to threaten their livelihood and their reputation. Because at the end of the day, all they really care about is themselves. This picture accomplished that. And I had texted him some things that made him think his boss was going to find out the kind of scum he has working for him. I never did this of course. I just wanted him to experience a smidgen of the mental anguish his actions have caused me by threatening his livelihood.
In the end, none of this helped me heal one bit. I don't have a clue how I am going to get through this and I don't know if I will ever be the same. I feel like I was walking on the road of life and someone came in, stole my resources and raped my soul. This is not what was supposed to happen. How will I ever heal from this?
Day Twenty-Five: D-DAY (Sept. 6th)
As you may notice, there has been some serious delay in my posting. It is because I have been a complete wreck after what happened on day Twenty-Five. I have appropriately titled it, "D-Day." Writing about this is extremely trying on my soul. I have been striving to breathe and just keep it together since this day and writing, each time I tried, proved to be damn near impossible. So, I am just going to type and not even edit, hoping to get through this once and for all.
A few months ago, my ex went out to do a show (he does music) during the day and said he would come home to be with me shortly after. I was not feeling well and did not want to spend another night in a bar: I wanted romance, sex and a night of passion! I swear, I don't know too many men that would complain about their girlfriend wanting to stay in and service them...but for him, it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Drinking and partying was the priority.
Needless to say, he did not come back in the hours preceeding his show. I called him over and over and over again. No answer. So I called my Mother, asked her to come get me so that I would not be home when he came home. This way he could see that I meant business, his behavior was unnacceptable and that he must put an end to all this nonsense if he wanted to be with me. Hours passed, 2 am came and there was no call from him. I began to get worried that he was passed out in a ditch or maybe just came home and passed out. I could not sleep without knowing he was safe. En route to our house, I called the police, the hospitals and all of our friends....No one had a clue where he was.
I came home, and he was not there. I continued calling him over and over and over again. No answer. Finally he calls me back, saying he is at his friend's house who lives right around the corner from us and that he fell asleep. My Mom and I hop in her car, drive the one block to his house and wait outside. My ex says he is walking out of his friends front door right now and he is walking home. Yet, we did not see him. He was telling me the streets he was walking down and we drove that way, not seeing him on any of the streets he said he was at. Then he appeared crossing the street to our home. I basically told him to fuck himself and that I was done.
In the morning, he realized what he had done. That he was out of line for not calling and so forth. He came to my mothers house in Sausalito, vowing to never drink anymore, say how sorry he is and says he was lying about being at the bar and drinking all hours of the night. For some reason I believed him.
Come to find out, word on the town is he was with the local haggard drunk 52 year old Irish slut of our circle of friends. He has told me that he got drunk and hooked up with her once years ago and was very embarrassed about it. Come to find out, he carried on with this very, very, ugly and very old woman, the entire time he was with his previous girlfriend and while he was with me. This was the one time I could point to as definite time he spent with her.
My heart stopped. I was crushed. Moments in time raced back to me, piecing everything together. It was hell. I realized, the night before he was with the old bitch, he lied to me and was with the fat girl the night before. His behavior was increasingly getting worse and he was willing to look me in the eye, tell me he never cheated on me and try to keep me under false pretenses. I texted him about this discovery, gave a few choice words, disgusting sickening excuse of a sub human comes to mind, and he tried to deny it. Eventually, I think he realized my details (drunk, going to strip clubs, your friend left and you went with her), were too spot on to deny. So disengage he did.
So tonight, yes, I drank. I drank a lot. I went to a gay bar with friends, and got very drunk. The queenie bitches were just what I needed. They kept telling me how pretty I was, what a loser he must be, chimed in with the appropriate "eewww," when I described this 52 year old hag. I stumbled into a cab, from what credit card forensics has told me, and came home. Somehow I lost my wallet but managed to pay the cab driver and get in my house. I am so devastated, my wallet is the last thing I care about. Now if I could only find my heart? Oh yeah, it's crushed into pieces, strewn about the city. Fuck.
A few months ago, my ex went out to do a show (he does music) during the day and said he would come home to be with me shortly after. I was not feeling well and did not want to spend another night in a bar: I wanted romance, sex and a night of passion! I swear, I don't know too many men that would complain about their girlfriend wanting to stay in and service them...but for him, it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Drinking and partying was the priority.
Needless to say, he did not come back in the hours preceeding his show. I called him over and over and over again. No answer. So I called my Mother, asked her to come get me so that I would not be home when he came home. This way he could see that I meant business, his behavior was unnacceptable and that he must put an end to all this nonsense if he wanted to be with me. Hours passed, 2 am came and there was no call from him. I began to get worried that he was passed out in a ditch or maybe just came home and passed out. I could not sleep without knowing he was safe. En route to our house, I called the police, the hospitals and all of our friends....No one had a clue where he was.
I came home, and he was not there. I continued calling him over and over and over again. No answer. Finally he calls me back, saying he is at his friend's house who lives right around the corner from us and that he fell asleep. My Mom and I hop in her car, drive the one block to his house and wait outside. My ex says he is walking out of his friends front door right now and he is walking home. Yet, we did not see him. He was telling me the streets he was walking down and we drove that way, not seeing him on any of the streets he said he was at. Then he appeared crossing the street to our home. I basically told him to fuck himself and that I was done.
In the morning, he realized what he had done. That he was out of line for not calling and so forth. He came to my mothers house in Sausalito, vowing to never drink anymore, say how sorry he is and says he was lying about being at the bar and drinking all hours of the night. For some reason I believed him.
Come to find out, word on the town is he was with the local haggard drunk 52 year old Irish slut of our circle of friends. He has told me that he got drunk and hooked up with her once years ago and was very embarrassed about it. Come to find out, he carried on with this very, very, ugly and very old woman, the entire time he was with his previous girlfriend and while he was with me. This was the one time I could point to as definite time he spent with her.
My heart stopped. I was crushed. Moments in time raced back to me, piecing everything together. It was hell. I realized, the night before he was with the old bitch, he lied to me and was with the fat girl the night before. His behavior was increasingly getting worse and he was willing to look me in the eye, tell me he never cheated on me and try to keep me under false pretenses. I texted him about this discovery, gave a few choice words, disgusting sickening excuse of a sub human comes to mind, and he tried to deny it. Eventually, I think he realized my details (drunk, going to strip clubs, your friend left and you went with her), were too spot on to deny. So disengage he did.
So tonight, yes, I drank. I drank a lot. I went to a gay bar with friends, and got very drunk. The queenie bitches were just what I needed. They kept telling me how pretty I was, what a loser he must be, chimed in with the appropriate "eewww," when I described this 52 year old hag. I stumbled into a cab, from what credit card forensics has told me, and came home. Somehow I lost my wallet but managed to pay the cab driver and get in my house. I am so devastated, my wallet is the last thing I care about. Now if I could only find my heart? Oh yeah, it's crushed into pieces, strewn about the city. Fuck.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Day Twenty-Three: Make it S[t]ick! (September 4th and 5th)
It's one thing to know something, it is another thing to live it. I was determined to live with my choice. Yesterday I could be very strong and determined with the support of my friend and the high I felt from feeling empowered for the first time in months. But today, the grief and loss was sinking in of knowing that I truly had to let go. And I was putting myself to the test: We had plans to spend time together this evening ever since the morning he left.
This was an especially difficult day as it was a beautiful Saturday. On days like this, he and I would always go downtown, spend the day walking around and grab lunch or something. I just finished working a promotion, I was downtown, and, drumroll, I was completely alone. I had gone from being interactive with other people, smiling, taking pictures, laughing and now I was alone. The stark contrast was jolting and extremely lonely. I could feel the hope draining out of me every step I took towards the aimlessly wandering destination of no where. But I could not go home and spend another day miserable, alone and inside.
He called, texted and tried to understand why I was having second thoughts about us continuing to see each other. Basically, I could not stand the fact that he can continue to carry on, just like he was during our relationship, but now had the actual freedom to, and he could still have me. This is just unfair to me. This is not what I want, would ever want, and never did want. We have too much history and trauma to ever pretend that we can be casual. And this girl, kind reader, is anything but casual. Even with the few men I have intended on having a one-night stand with, I expect complete loyalty and undying devotion! Or else they don't even get close to my bed! But this was entirely different. And who was I kidding?
So I laid down a metaphorical line in the sand just by being very taut with my words and clear about my hesitance. Let me just say this: If I were him, and I had done what he has done to a woman who has still somehow tried to love me in spite of it all, try to forgive me and even just gave me the time of day, I would be at her door daily, begging to be seen as worthy, doing any and everything that it took. I would think, "damn! That is one amazing woman! To love me after all this! I am not letting that go!" But a man who is capable of thinking and acting like that, would never treat a woman the way he treated me. Although, my romantic side always thinks that my man could, should and will. But this man never does. And I remembered, "Oh yeah. It's him."
So I went to bed, distraught, remembering who this man really is and trying to kill the idea of who I have made him out to be. That was never him. It never will be him and I have to accept that. The only thing that this has to do with me is that I picked him and I believed every line he fed me. Love makes you do dumb things. Just like I said on Day One, I ignored all the red flags.
This was an especially difficult day as it was a beautiful Saturday. On days like this, he and I would always go downtown, spend the day walking around and grab lunch or something. I just finished working a promotion, I was downtown, and, drumroll, I was completely alone. I had gone from being interactive with other people, smiling, taking pictures, laughing and now I was alone. The stark contrast was jolting and extremely lonely. I could feel the hope draining out of me every step I took towards the aimlessly wandering destination of no where. But I could not go home and spend another day miserable, alone and inside.
He called, texted and tried to understand why I was having second thoughts about us continuing to see each other. Basically, I could not stand the fact that he can continue to carry on, just like he was during our relationship, but now had the actual freedom to, and he could still have me. This is just unfair to me. This is not what I want, would ever want, and never did want. We have too much history and trauma to ever pretend that we can be casual. And this girl, kind reader, is anything but casual. Even with the few men I have intended on having a one-night stand with, I expect complete loyalty and undying devotion! Or else they don't even get close to my bed! But this was entirely different. And who was I kidding?
So I laid down a metaphorical line in the sand just by being very taut with my words and clear about my hesitance. Let me just say this: If I were him, and I had done what he has done to a woman who has still somehow tried to love me in spite of it all, try to forgive me and even just gave me the time of day, I would be at her door daily, begging to be seen as worthy, doing any and everything that it took. I would think, "damn! That is one amazing woman! To love me after all this! I am not letting that go!" But a man who is capable of thinking and acting like that, would never treat a woman the way he treated me. Although, my romantic side always thinks that my man could, should and will. But this man never does. And I remembered, "Oh yeah. It's him."
So I went to bed, distraught, remembering who this man really is and trying to kill the idea of who I have made him out to be. That was never him. It never will be him and I have to accept that. The only thing that this has to do with me is that I picked him and I believed every line he fed me. Love makes you do dumb things. Just like I said on Day One, I ignored all the red flags.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Day Twenty-Two: Remember (September 3rd)
After he left for work early in the morning and my bed was finally mine again, I experienced a strange feeling of relief. I was relieved that my personal elephant in the room was gone: I knew I could never share a bed with this man ever again. I could not lay there, pretending to think that it could ever be healthy or normal. Forget what he has done: I never wanted to spend another night with these emotions, next to the man who had caused them.
I was never one to keep my feelings to myself. But at night, when they can sleep as if nothing is wrong, the woman is awake, analyzing, preparing, planning and anguishing over the details. The kicker is this is when I CAN'T express my feelings to the culprit! They are resting like a baby! This is what I did every night during the last 5 months of our relationship. Every night, I would lie awake, pondering every nook and cranny of our relationship and I was still doing it. Well, fuck that. I don't even have a commitment anymore. This was not my job! And you know what? All that thinking, pondering and attempts to converse about our problems, didn't help one bit. You cannot fix a situation between two people when only one of them is doing the work. Instead of repairing our problems, he was adding to them, feeding my insecurities and carrying on like a single man. No amount of talking is going to fix that if the guy isn't dedicated and is, quite frankly, incapable of telling the truth.
This realization was meant that I could no longer deny it and I had to follow through. I stayed home and sat with these feelings. I even beat them with the conversational stick with the help of a girlfriend and a bottle of wine!
Talking through things like this is not a waste of time. Because now, unlike before, there is only one player needed to make this play successful. And that player is me. If I could dedicate myself to this relationship, even when it looked as if a loss was inevitable, why could I not secure a win for myself and walk away?
I stayed awake, analyzed the details, argued both sides of my mind and heart, finally laying my head to rest at 5 A.M. There really is no point in participating in any shape or form in a losing game. It was time I started rooting for myself. And that is a bet I think I can finally get behind. I need to stay strong.
I was never one to keep my feelings to myself. But at night, when they can sleep as if nothing is wrong, the woman is awake, analyzing, preparing, planning and anguishing over the details. The kicker is this is when I CAN'T express my feelings to the culprit! They are resting like a baby! This is what I did every night during the last 5 months of our relationship. Every night, I would lie awake, pondering every nook and cranny of our relationship and I was still doing it. Well, fuck that. I don't even have a commitment anymore. This was not my job! And you know what? All that thinking, pondering and attempts to converse about our problems, didn't help one bit. You cannot fix a situation between two people when only one of them is doing the work. Instead of repairing our problems, he was adding to them, feeding my insecurities and carrying on like a single man. No amount of talking is going to fix that if the guy isn't dedicated and is, quite frankly, incapable of telling the truth.
This realization was meant that I could no longer deny it and I had to follow through. I stayed home and sat with these feelings. I even beat them with the conversational stick with the help of a girlfriend and a bottle of wine!
Talking through things like this is not a waste of time. Because now, unlike before, there is only one player needed to make this play successful. And that player is me. If I could dedicate myself to this relationship, even when it looked as if a loss was inevitable, why could I not secure a win for myself and walk away?
I stayed awake, analyzed the details, argued both sides of my mind and heart, finally laying my head to rest at 5 A.M. There really is no point in participating in any shape or form in a losing game. It was time I started rooting for myself. And that is a bet I think I can finally get behind. I need to stay strong.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Day Twenty-One: Failure (September 2nd)
I caved...AGAIN. That's the thing about balance and affirmations! They don't stick if you don't consciously apply them! Yes, I worked and was precise, all robot like. But coming home, that damn empty room, this fucking heart and the tears were eating me alive.
He calls me everyday. Tells me how much he misses me and loves me. How sorry he is. I naively thought knowing this was helping. I thought that seeing him every so often would help ease the pain. That I could ween myself off him. A little fix here, a little comfort there, his touch I wouldn't long for as much as I did.
But when he fell asleep next to me in my bed, none of this relief was present. It was pure torture.
Every night we spent together, him sleeping next to me, me awake, sexually frustrated, asking myself how much more of this relationship I could bear came back to me. Fighting the urge to look in his phone to uncover who he was talking to behind my back. Just like the last time we spent the night together as a couple when I looked in his phone and discovered his trolling craigslist casual encounters. But this time, I have no right. He is not mine. He was eating his cake and eating it too. And I was letting him.
It was me who is getting the short end of the deal. Me who was on the losing side. Nothing has changed. This was the way it always was. Me on the losing end, him getting to go about his business, live his life and have a woman love him when he was doing nothing to deserve it. I gave him everything. He gave me lies. And that is exactly what was still happening.
I knew in my heart that I could not do this again. No matter how much I love him, I could no longer fool myself into thinking that these bits of time we spend together were helping. It was not. So this closeness was yet another thing that I would have to let go of...for good.
He calls me everyday. Tells me how much he misses me and loves me. How sorry he is. I naively thought knowing this was helping. I thought that seeing him every so often would help ease the pain. That I could ween myself off him. A little fix here, a little comfort there, his touch I wouldn't long for as much as I did.
But when he fell asleep next to me in my bed, none of this relief was present. It was pure torture.
Every night we spent together, him sleeping next to me, me awake, sexually frustrated, asking myself how much more of this relationship I could bear came back to me. Fighting the urge to look in his phone to uncover who he was talking to behind my back. Just like the last time we spent the night together as a couple when I looked in his phone and discovered his trolling craigslist casual encounters. But this time, I have no right. He is not mine. He was eating his cake and eating it too. And I was letting him.
It was me who is getting the short end of the deal. Me who was on the losing side. Nothing has changed. This was the way it always was. Me on the losing end, him getting to go about his business, live his life and have a woman love him when he was doing nothing to deserve it. I gave him everything. He gave me lies. And that is exactly what was still happening.
I knew in my heart that I could not do this again. No matter how much I love him, I could no longer fool myself into thinking that these bits of time we spend together were helping. It was not. So this closeness was yet another thing that I would have to let go of...for good.
Day Twenty: Balance (Sept. 1st)
So balance is the word of today. I have to learn to balance the pain, the reality, and the absolute truth. My truth, his truth and the ACTUAL truth. I cannot jump into all of it and actually think that I can deal with everything and still manage to come out of this as a sane person. There is no way. There is way too much to process all at once. So today was filled with plans to keep my hands busy to hopefully get rid of the horrific thoughts in my mind and the constant pain in my heart.
Gym, work, dinner and drinks with my friend. I worked my butt off at the gym. Running six miles with ease, sit-ups galore and the pain of my screaming muscles was no match for the actual pain in my heart. Muscle pain is a cake walk so I beat that bitch with my heartache and put it to good use.
I applied myself to this promotion that I have been working for some extra money and was so precise you could swear I was a robot. I showed up, did my job, went through the motions to a tee and even managed to smile while repping the product. I was the prime example of what you would want in someone promoting your product. Underneath it all, I was dying inside. But I applied my professionalism and business ethics to just do what I gotta do and save the crying for later.
I met with my friend for drinks. Its weird that I felt guilty drinking. But why should I be the one who feels guilty? My drinking didn't turn me into a violent monster! My drinking didn't cloud my judgement to the point that I was making out with other people, carrying on entire relationships. My drinking didn't cause me to have HUGE lapses in time where I had shit in my pants and lost my 6th cell phone of the year...and it wasn't even July yet! So I told that guilt to shove it and enjoyed 3 coronas on this abnormally hot San Francisco day.
It was nice. But at the end of the day, coming home to this house, walking passed his empty room, my heart broke all over again. He is gone. I am alone. I was trying to hear my little inner voice tell me that I am okay. But it was drowned out by cries of loss and loneliness. That's the thing about balance: It can't all be fun and distraction. Pain, the other part of the equation, is there no matter what.
Gym, work, dinner and drinks with my friend. I worked my butt off at the gym. Running six miles with ease, sit-ups galore and the pain of my screaming muscles was no match for the actual pain in my heart. Muscle pain is a cake walk so I beat that bitch with my heartache and put it to good use.
I applied myself to this promotion that I have been working for some extra money and was so precise you could swear I was a robot. I showed up, did my job, went through the motions to a tee and even managed to smile while repping the product. I was the prime example of what you would want in someone promoting your product. Underneath it all, I was dying inside. But I applied my professionalism and business ethics to just do what I gotta do and save the crying for later.
I met with my friend for drinks. Its weird that I felt guilty drinking. But why should I be the one who feels guilty? My drinking didn't turn me into a violent monster! My drinking didn't cloud my judgement to the point that I was making out with other people, carrying on entire relationships. My drinking didn't cause me to have HUGE lapses in time where I had shit in my pants and lost my 6th cell phone of the year...and it wasn't even July yet! So I told that guilt to shove it and enjoyed 3 coronas on this abnormally hot San Francisco day.
It was nice. But at the end of the day, coming home to this house, walking passed his empty room, my heart broke all over again. He is gone. I am alone. I was trying to hear my little inner voice tell me that I am okay. But it was drowned out by cries of loss and loneliness. That's the thing about balance: It can't all be fun and distraction. Pain, the other part of the equation, is there no matter what.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Day Nineteen: (August 31st)
So, the thing about affirmations is, they don't stick if you don't repeat them. I tried. I really, really did. I worked the mental bone to a nub and it was a resounding drone that went from resembling Cannibal Corpse to doo-wop, sad songs headlined by The Platters. But today, I decided...I was going to try and listen to myself. Despite my obvious definceicies , I was going to listen to myself: I LIKE BEING ALONE. Remember, Self? You liked sleeping in the middle of the bed, with a book...the only comfort you needed.
In my bed, I relished in this memory. The words determining your emoitions, not a guy; a mass of presence does not make that void filled. This book. These words. They are what I used to cherish...and just a step away from where I am destined to be.
In my bed, I relished in this memory. The words determining your emoitions, not a guy; a mass of presence does not make that void filled. This book. These words. They are what I used to cherish...and just a step away from where I am destined to be.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Day Eighteen: Tact (August 30th)
I have been rereading this so-called blog and there is definitely a running theme: I am constantly trying to tell myself that I am over it, I have no hope left etc etc etc. However, it is always about him. Obviously, I am inextricably linked to him, but rarely does the theraputetic, "so now what?," moment arise. I am no sage, nor am I an expert at this thing despite the numerous assholes I have been with. You would think by now I would have a clue, but no, sadly, I do not.
One thing I am a master at, is trickery. I have tricked myself into this relationship; Believed all his words to justify my every breath, move, twitch and heart-collapsing incident. So why could I not trick myself to believe, nay, see the truth, and put this whole love thing to rest? The reluctant hippie in me had the answer: Affirmations.
My little pep-talk is very simple: You are okay.
I cannot make my heart listen to my mind, let alone reason and logic, love renders these abilities inert. But I can accept the facts: I love him. He loves me. We cannot be together.
This is a new addition and a necessity.
I love him. He loves me. We cannot be together. And that is okay. I am okay. If I can swallow that, for the time being, I can eventually move to, "I don't want to be with him." I know that this love will linger. But I know my desire to share a life with him, once the fog of love clears and my judgement arrives, will have caught up with my mind and be ashamed. How could I ever stoop so low to be so kind and affected by a man who disrespected and betrayed me the way he did?
A friend said I have to be a bit "Machiavellian" about my approach. Not manipulative per say, but tactical with my decisions: How do I want things to be? What role do I want to play?
It clicked: Don't be so impulsive. Sit, affirm, an try to believe. And when I falter in faith, get competitive. I never liked losing so I am competing with myself to stay strong, not break and keep stepping.
I AM OKAY.
One thing I am a master at, is trickery. I have tricked myself into this relationship; Believed all his words to justify my every breath, move, twitch and heart-collapsing incident. So why could I not trick myself to believe, nay, see the truth, and put this whole love thing to rest? The reluctant hippie in me had the answer: Affirmations.
My little pep-talk is very simple: You are okay.
I cannot make my heart listen to my mind, let alone reason and logic, love renders these abilities inert. But I can accept the facts: I love him. He loves me. We cannot be together.
This is a new addition and a necessity.
I love him. He loves me. We cannot be together. And that is okay. I am okay. If I can swallow that, for the time being, I can eventually move to, "I don't want to be with him." I know that this love will linger. But I know my desire to share a life with him, once the fog of love clears and my judgement arrives, will have caught up with my mind and be ashamed. How could I ever stoop so low to be so kind and affected by a man who disrespected and betrayed me the way he did?
A friend said I have to be a bit "Machiavellian" about my approach. Not manipulative per say, but tactical with my decisions: How do I want things to be? What role do I want to play?
It clicked: Don't be so impulsive. Sit, affirm, an try to believe. And when I falter in faith, get competitive. I never liked losing so I am competing with myself to stay strong, not break and keep stepping.
I AM OKAY.
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