Dammit, Dammit, Damn It All

Not a good day. Not at all. Today, right now, I just want him. I miss everything about him. The him I knew, the him I loved. The him that is lost, gone, not available, not mine, vanished. I can’t make my brain function, my emotions are definitely in the driver’s seat today. Damn. My heart hurts. It HURTS. I’m shaky and cold. I can’t keep any food down. I keep leaking tears everywhere, and it just fucking hurts. Such bullshit.

I want to know WHY? And there is just no answer to that question, no answer at all.

My heart is bleeding.

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The Cycle of Sad To Angry And Back Again

I still miss him. A lot. But I’m angry. I’m angry at him, for lying, for hurting me SO fucking badly. I’m angry at him for treating his wife like an afterthought. I’m angry at him for not respecting his newborn daughter enough to treat her mother well, to stand up and be a man she would be proud of. I am angry at him for repeatedly saying I made him want to be a better person and then not actually managing to BE a better person. You want to be worthy of my love? Well, you aren’t. Not at all.

And so I’m right back to sad. It HURTS, dammit!

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.

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.

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 Miss You

Our last conversation was Sunday morning. Afterwards, I sat at my computer and methodically deleted any and every thing he’d ever sent me, or I’d sent him. All the emails (letters, we called them, because according to him “email” sounded too small for what we were), all the chat transcripts, all the pictures, all the songs. Everything. It seemed like a good idea, and it probably was in theory.

But it doesn’t change the fact that all of those things are permanently seared into my brain, front and center, demanding my undivided attention. It doesn’t change the fact that I have a book he recommended on my kitchen table, or the fact that the bunny I knitted for his daughter is laying right beside it. The painting I was making for him sits on my easel, a partially finished memento of my pain and loss. It doesn’t change ANYTHING. My entire life is affected by him, the loss of him, thoughts of him, longing for him, memories of him. I miss him. Not even considering the lies, the deceit, the, yeah, the wife . . . I just miss him. He was such a huge and constant part of my life, and there is an empty place where he used to be.

I miss you.

Dan Jimenez, Adrian Jimenez, escritorio1978

Everything Reminds Me Of Him

Every single thing. A song on the radio? I wonder what he’d think about it. A beautiful spot in the sun? Visions of us holding hands, happy to be alive and together. My son’s Legos strewn across the floor? I envisioned a lasting relationship, some sort of a future with this man. My god.

All I did today was cry.

I hate this, I really do.

Dan Jimenez, Adrian Jimenez, escritorio1978