Positive thinking only lasts for so long, it seems. I wish that I could turn my brain off sometimes. Or at least manage to control the thoughts racing round and round within. Steer them in the directions I’d prefer them to go. Even my attempts to meditate only end with me frustrated and less relaxed than I was before. Toss in my natural tendency towards insomnia, and it all adds up to a sad, exhausted and overwhelmed version of me that is trying to make it through the day today.
I keep thinking about how I screwed up when I replied to his wife’s most recent contact. I realize I shouldn’t have used the “L” word to describe my feelings on the time he and I spent together, because it grabbed her attention and completely distracted from my actual point. I should have said something more along the lines that I’m choosing to remember our time together for what it was, for what it seemed to be. When he and I were together it was truly wonderful, and I’m choosing to remember it for what it was at that time, because I think it is better from both of us if he can remain someone who is worthy of having been loved (by me), worthy of being loved and staying married to (by her) . Something like that, more vague, I guess. Well, technically, I should never have replied to her, but, yeah. Hindsight’s an amazing thing, huh?
I’ve rambled about my “is he a good person” dilema enough, I imagine. I’m still not sure of the answer, although I have a rather annoying suspicion that it might be closer to “no” than “yes”. And that is a seriously scary thought, let me tell you. Maybe it doesn’t even matter, I don’t know. It certainly doesn’t change anything that’s happened.
As I said, by inadvertently hurting his wife with my thoughtlessness, I caused her to lash out at me and try to cause me more pain, whereas before we’d had the wary but respectful to each other relationship of two wounded women. I feel very bad about that.
The way she chose to try and hurt me was to say that he never loved me. Which, really, is all I would have ever expected her to say. I was legitimately surprised that she’d even admitted in our earlier conversations that he had feelings for me. To drive home her assertion that he never loved me, she said that he’d been emailing a couple of other women during the time we were together. I actually knew that. He’d talked about it with me on at least two occasions. (Yes, I’m aware he may have lied about the nature of the friendships, but still, the point is that this wasn’t a surprise, thus robbing it of any actual impact.) And even if these email exchanges were wildly inappropriate for a man in an allegedly faithful relationship to have been participating in, there’s pretty much nothing that trumps the complete and total omission of a WIFE. A few possibly naughty emails is supposed to cause me any pain at all, relative to the icy cold knife in the heart feeling that comes from learning that the man who repeatedly and poetically professed to love me, truly, deeply and ferociously, and to want an always sort of future with me is married? And to someone who actually assumes he loves her, is faithful to her, all the things that a proper marriage should be?
Did he love me? Yes, I think so, as much as he is capable of loving anyone. Did he love me enough to be truthful with me, to have an honest relationship with me? No, he didn’t. He couldn’t, because he had a wife. Would he have loved me still, had he not had a wife? I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but maybe the thrill of cheating heightened things for him. Maybe my complete obliviousness to his deception was a turn on for him. Who knows?! I have no idea. I know that the words and feelings that I expressed to him were actually how I felt about him. I loved him, deeply, truly and ferociously, and I did want and expect to have a future with him. In the end, maybe that is all that really matters. His deception and mistakes only reflect negatively on me if I let them do so. I believed in love, and I had hope. I fail to see how that can EVER be a bad thing!