Positive Thinking

I’m a generally positive person, by nature. At least I like to think so. Lately it has really been a struggle to keep smiling, though. I’ve dealt with severe depression in the past, and I am not there now, not at all. But having been there, and wanting never to go there again if at all possible, I am constantly on alert. Yes, depression is chemical and so on, but life situations can make you drop your guard. I know this well. And aside from the pain and trauma associated with losing a love I believed in, a love I thought was real, it all just happened so damn abruptly. One moment I was loving life, blissfully happy and in love, the next moment I am picking my shredded heart up off the floor. I had no time to prepare, the firm surface I was standing on was just snatched rudely from beneath me and replaced with betrayal, lies and abandonment. Add in the fact that winter is on its way and I loathe winter, and yeah, I’m struggling. I’m not superhuman.

So today, or at least right now, I am going to concentrate on the things that make me happy: Today is Halloween. I love Halloween. The sun is shining. My living room is clean. I had bacon and grits for breakfast. I have a new book to read. I still might get the job I’m trying to get.

And, of course, the number one reason to be happy and my number one reason for fighting to regain my balance and my spirit, my son. My son makes me happy. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I love him more than I even knew it was possible to love someone.

I Feel Guilty But More Positive Than Before

I reread what I wrote to her earlier, and I can totally see how she was confused and hurt. It all made such perfect sense  as I was writing it, but upon reflection I can see how it was misinterpreted. And I caused her to lash out and try to hurt me, when all I wanted to do was say I’ve figured out how he can still be a decent person and that’s good for both of us. If he’s a decent person, then they can work things out and live happily ever after, and I can move on, equally happily ever after, with my belief in love, passion and entwined souls intact. But that didn’t come across, and I hurt someone by my poorly thought out action. I am so sorry. Damn.

I will make it through this. I am making it through this. I will be ok. I will find a love that is true and lasting and is worthy of me. I say so, dammit!

Disillusionment

Apparently while I slept, my subconscious began to entertain the possibility that he is simply not a good person. That makes me sad. As a matter of fact, I’m just kind of sad in general this morning. Although, it seems to be mixed with a bit of resignation as well, so maybe that’s a good thing.

I’ve been thinking about the things he said about his wife when she was in the guise of “the ex”. That is his phrase, not mine. The ex, not my ex. He also called her “the bearer of my child”. He never used her name. Which at the time I didn’t give much thought to, assuming that what he’d told me was true and she’d kept the impending existence of his daughter from him. I could understand a bit of resentment existing. But thinking back over things with the knowledge I have now, his dismissive attitude towards her is disturbing. This is a woman he was deliberately and consciously cheating on. They lived together the entire time he and I were together. So that means that during times we stayed up late talking, she was there. Everything he said to me, did with me, promised me, during those talks, he did while she slept in the next room, gestating their child. Every day she assumed he was hard at work earning their livelihood, he was doing it while spending every single moment with me, while planning a future with me. That’s just wrong. There’s no way to spin it any other way. And honestly, it makes me angry. How dare he treat a woman he professes to love in that way? How could he? How could he treat me the way he did, someone he also professed to love? But even more so how could he treat her, the woman he’s been with for eight years, a woman he married, a woman who carried his child, in such a completely heartless way?

So I’m back to my dilema. I want to keep the idea of him as a man who made a serious mistake, but who is a decent, caring and kind person in general. I want this, I think, because I don’t want to admit that my ability to tell a nice guy from a lying jerk is so seriously flawed, and also because I’m scared that if I go down that road I will turn jaded and lose my belief in love and a true and passionate man existing somewhere for me.

It’s really just insanely frustrating. And I guess I’m still at the point where I believe that he did mean the things he said to me. But I’m also willing to admit that he has an impressive capacity to compartmentalize the different areas of his life. Last night, she said she didn’t believe he could love two people at the same time, and that therefore one of us was seriously stupid. And yeah, I’m willing to admit the possibility that it’s me. I’ve said that from the beginning. But I’d rather neither of us was stupid, that this was just an unfortunate thing, that they fix things, really and truly fix things, not merely stay together unhappily, and that I move on, happy and wiser. So that’s what I was getting at, with choosing to believe that he did love me. A decent man, capable of love, capable of fixing the gigantic mistake he made and remaining true to his wife, that’s a good thing. A manipulative sociopath, not a good thing and not at all worth staying with. The first is fine and understandable for me to have fallen in love with, the second is not.

I feel like screaming, I really do.

I Just Keep Messing Up

I logged back into my other account, planning to deactivate it if possible. Only to discover that she’d actually replied to my earlier IM, was, in fact, actually in the act of replying. I wasn’t expecting that, for sure.

She either completely misread what I wrote or just took the wrong things from it. She thought I was saying I was choosing to believe that he was still in love with me, and wanted to know why on earth I’d say something like that to her. I do not even remotely believe that, trust me! What do I believe, let’s see. I believe that the love he did feel for me was pretty quickly snuffed by the realization that he was about to lose his family. And yes, I’ve considered whether that means it was a less than true love to begin with. It was a lesser love by definition, because it was a secondary love. I know this. Real and true love does not cheat. Doesn’t that sound reasonable? I don’t even know anymore, I don’t. No, I can’t say that, because that would imply that he couldn’t have a real and true love for her, since he was cheating on her with me. God, this is so confusing!

I am trying very hard to come to a place in my thinking where he can remain a nice person. I want to believe he is a good person who made a serious mistake. But maybe that is the wrong approach. Maybe he really is an asshole. Maybe THAT is the right approach. How can you tell? And why do I care so much that he stay a decent person? Some of it is because I am truly scared that this whole fiasco will make me jaded, will crush the me that believes passionate love exists, is attainable, is sustainable. That’s probably the main reason. Although as I said, I do want them to work things out. But why? Is it really because I want the man I love/d to be happy? Is it because his wife is a genuinely nice person and has been treated extremely unfairly by him, and therefore deserves to be happy? Is it because it is easier for me to pretend that he chose his wife and daughter over me, that circumstances and doing-the-right-thing are what keep us apart, than to believe he is an asshole who gets off on manipulating the emotions of women? And is there a happy medium between those two points?

If nothing he ever said to me was true, then he is a seriously and deeply damaged individual. And that’s scary to me. Because I did care for him, did love him, and because of what it would say about me, that I am completely unable to discern a man who truly and lastingly loves me from a sociopath. It is past my ability to believe that someone could be so manipulative and emotionless as to fake our entire relationship. If that is pathetic and desperate of me, so be it. I don’t know what else to think.

Earlier she’d said that she knew he had feelings for me. Just now, she said he never loved me. Totally understandable. She has her own ways of dealing with things, and her way is not necessarily my way. I am guilty of assuming that she would understand that my need to believe he did love me stems from a need to believe he is a good person, and that my desire to believe he is a good person is for her benefit as well. It was a mistake, and I am deeply sorry to have caused her additional pain. If you ever find this blog, I am truly sorry, Iliana. But dammit, I WANT him to be a good person, and I can’t figure out how he can be a good person without having meant the things he said to me. Cheating on your wife is a huge mistake, it is wrong, and he was clearly not being a good husband at all when he went down that road. But cheating on your wife while deliberately and methodically manipulating the emotions of a vulnerable woman, pretending to love her, making all that up just for what . . . kicks, I guess, that is beyond a mistake, that is borderline evil.

Is all this just random justifications on my part? Am I crazy? Maybe I am.

So damn confusing!

On the plus side, while I still suffer from my fantasy of wishing everything he said about her being the ex and us being in love was true, I think I’ve managed to get past the thought that I might actually take him back if time had passed and they were no longer together. I think. So that’s sort of something, right? Oh, that’s another thing. She took my wishful thinking as my saying I wanted her to be “the ex”, like he said she was. I tried to explain that I didn’t want that NOW, that I wanted what I thought was true before to still be true. There is a difference there, subtle but important. I would never wish pain and loss on her. But again, I totally see how that could be taken wrong and I am truly sorry. I apologized to her, and I’ll apologize again here.

I would NEVER wish the pain I’ve been through on anyone, ever. Heartache is bullshit, plain and simple bullshit.

Ahh, Hell

As I was lying with my son, rubbing his back to help him fall asleep, it hit me . . . everything I deleted is more than likely safely backed up because of my automatic online backup. Damn.

Now what?

I guess I just leave it there for now. If I go look, I run the risk of sitting around listening to songs and mooning over his pictures for the rest of the night, at a minimum. And again, it’s not like I can’t recall every detail at will anyway.

And I was feeling so virtuous for managing to delete everything, too. Bets on how long until I crack?

A Moment of Weakness

For whatever reason, I logged into my other account earlier today, the one I mostly used to talk to him, the one I deleted all our letters from. I wasn’t even expecting anything to be there, but there was. There was an IM waiting for me. I admit, my pulse raced, my stomach dropped and my hands went all numb and tingly, even though logically I knew it was going to be from his wife and not him. And it was. She wanted to know if I’d gotten the answers I needed from our final conversation. She said she didn’t know, because he’d deleted the transcript. There was something else about hoping I had what I needed to move on. I don’t have the exact words because it didn’t get saved for some reason.

I sat there and stared at it for a VERY long time. What to do? Reply? Delete? Cry again, because why not, it’s what I do anyway?

Ultimately, I replied. Smart? Who knows! Not me, I know that much. Here’s what I wrote:

I don’t know why I logged back in today. A moment of weakness, I suppose. I haven’t used this account since he and I talked. So I hadn’t seen this message, [her name]. I told him I would not contact him again, but perhaps responding to an overture is different, I don’t know or really care, to be honest. He’d said he was going to delete our conversation, but I didn’t actually expect him to do it. It went as I expected, with no answers whatsoever. He wouldn’t admit to having loved me and he wouldn’t admit to having callously manipulated me, even when I showed him the door to walk through. So I’m forced to make my own interpretations, and I’ve chosen to believe that he did love me. I’ve chosen to believe this not only for my own sanity, but because I meant what I said before. I want the man that I love to have what he wants out of his life, and he wants you and his daughter. Therefore, I want him to be a person who is worth staying with, and someone who is capable of genuine love is worth staying with. Someone who is a callous manipulator is not. So, for those reasons I believe that he did love me and he does love you. Anything less is unfavorable for my future, and for yours.

I am a fighter, and I am actively fighting to get over this entire experience. Hopefully unscarred. It remains to be seen if I will be successful, but rest assured, I plan to be. I’ve deleted everything he ever wrote to me, every picture he ever sent me, every song he ever said represented our love. It is all gone. Other, of course, than the fact that it is all burned into my brain, but I can’t do much about that. I’m assuming time will help. I even made a blog where I can wallow in my sadness and hopefully get it out of my system. I can write random things about my struggle to heal myself, and hopefully connect with people who have managed it themselves. I am fighting. I know you will be glad to hear this, and hopefully he will be as well.

I hope very much that you are making progress in your own healing. I’d love to believe that I was not indirectly responsible for a failed marriage. I wish you well, [her name], and him also. I’m still guilty of wishing desperately that things had actually been as he said they were, where you were just “the ex” and he and I were in love. I can’t be sorry for that, and I am trying to view it as a sign that I will eventually be able to love and trust someone again.

Now I’m off to spend some time with the one man whose feelings I am certain of, my son.

Again, I have no clue if this was a good idea or not. I’m kind of thinking it just is what it is. More neutral than anything. I’m not expecting a response, by any means. It did finally occur to me, from this contact and from remembering things she’d said during our earlier conversations, that she actually thought there was a chance he might “pick me”, so to speak. Or more specifically, not pick her, that would be more accurate. I hadn’t realized that, and I’m truly sorry that I didn’t make it more clear to her that that was not an option. I will not interfere in a marriage. Would I take him back, at some point in the future, if they are unable to fix things and a true separation occurs? Right now, I’d have to say yes, I would. But that is way more my problem, and presumably something that will pass as I recover from the damage done to me.

I listen to the jumble of thoughts in my brain, only a tiny, tiny portion of which are making it out into this blog, and I am confused. How can I truly want him to be happy, want he and his wife to fix their relationship, and yet still want him back? How can that even make any sense? I do see that most of what I want to happen, what I would make happen if I had some sort of reality-altering machine, is just fantasy. Magical thinking, things that can never be. I can’t alter reality, no matter how much I would love to do so.

I want him, love him, miss him. How do I get over this and still keep my belief in love and souls and destiny and true love intact? Is that even possible? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Things He Said To Me

I love you. You’re my inspiration. My sunshine, my belle. You make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of us, of what we have. You’ve changed me. We’ve known each other before, so familiar, so right. Haven, shelter, a light in a storm. There’s no going back. You saved me. You pierce my soul. We’re two trains on the same track. Inevitable. Destiny. We’ll have ours. I love you fiercely. Never goodbye. Yes.

There’s more, a lot more, but I am tired and sad and I think I’m going to bed.

Empty Days

I am lonely, and my heart hurts. The entire day stretches out in front of me, empty and sad. And in such stark contrast to how I used to spend my time. Us, together. Just talking. Joking. Being silly. Sometimes talking seriously about our feelings and where our relationship was going, sometimes not. It never mattered. I’d talk to this man about anything. He was just genuinely fun to spend time with. I miss that, so much.

I’m going to drive and visit a cousin I haven’t seen in a while, which will be nice. It won’t take my mind off of him, though. So far, I haven’t found anything that does. Seriously, I am open for suggestions. I am useless as a human being right now.

I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl

Come on, save my soul,

I need some sugar in my bowl

I ain’t foolin’

I want some sugar in my bowl

Confession

I harbor a secret hope that somehow he will discover that I am writing about my . . . what, pain, attempts at recovery, loss, sadness. All that. This experience. Yes, that works. I secretly hope that he finds out.

I’ve made it so this blog will show up if he ever Googles himself. His name, screen name, that sort of thing. It makes me feel closer to him. I think that might make me officially crazy, but I don’t suppose there’s much I can do about that. I still say this is better than lying on the floor crying. Not that I don’t still do that, but you know.

Incidentally, I actually hope that he’s able to work things out with his wife and have a happy family thing with her and his daughter. I can’t imagine that’s going to be easy for them, but I do hope they manage. Granted, that’s secondary to my hope that everything magically go back to the way (he said) it was, where she was just the ex and he was in love with me, but I stil think that’s noteworthy. Maybe. If he contacted me right now, I’d have to make his wife fill out a permission slip or something before we talked much beyond a simple “Hey, how are you, how’s your daughter?”. But that’s just me. I doubt he’d have such concerns, being a cheater and all.

Wow. I just talked myself up and down quite a range of emotions, in a very short space.

Things to address in future posts:

thoughts about his wife

did he love me, did he play me?

fragmented parts of me

the damage done to my sense of who I am, the fledgling me that is trying to deal with what I perceive as a failed marriage