Upon Further Reflection

I confess, I don’t always read the comments when I read other people’s blogs. It really just depends on how much time I have at any given moment. Anyway, I clarified a few things in a reply to a comment on my previous post and since I assume that at least a few people share my shameful burden of not always reading the comments, I’m going to repost it here. Because I can and why not. I want all this crap out and over with, you know? I was replying to a person who thought I was sad over him specifically and/or thinking of him.

Oh, I am not particularly interested in how he is. I hope his wife and child are well, and I hope in a vague sort of way that he isn’t crushed by heavy machinery or kidnapped by pirates, or anything ridiculous like that, but in general I don’t spend any significant amount of time actually mooning over (the current reality of) him.

I kind of miss the fake him, or at least the idea of the fake him. Call me stupid and sentimental. Fake him meshed with real me quite nicely. But once I realized, truly internalized, what he did, the cheating on his PREGNANT wife part and the callous disregard for my emotional and mental health part, I realized that the real him is quite simply not a man I want to know. And if real him happened to get a little karmic payback at some point in his future, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. But I’m not wishing for it, either.

My bursts of sadness have more to do with me. I WANT what I thought we had, with someone who is actually deserving of my love and passion. I want that, so much.

I think that last paragraph is the most important point here. And I’ll be the first to admit that it took me a while to figure that out. It’s really only been in the last few days, as I’ve been wondering why on earth I am still experiencing sadness over this, that it finally clicked. It’s about me and what I want from life, from love, from the relationships that I have now, that I may have in the future. Hell, probably ones from the past, too.

I need to figure out what I want out of life. Sounds easy enough, right?!

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I Know, I Know . . . I Said I Was Done

WHY, for crying out loud, am I still occasionally experiencing waves of sadness over the loss of a man who, when you get right down to it, proved himself emphatically to NOT be the type of man I would actually want to be with?! My brain is a fully functioning one, and intellectually I am over it, over him. But my emotional side has other ideas, and is apparently having a grand old time gracing me with bouts of weepiness and making me generally achy in the heart region. It is really quite annoying. I mean, if I had to make a list of things that would keep me from getting involved with someone, “cheats on pregnant wife” would be be WAY up there! Really high, and right next to “depraved indifference to the feelings of clueless ‘mistress’ and previously mentioned, cheated-upon, pregnant wife”.

So again, I’m asking . . . what the fuck is wrong with me that I still get sad about this!?!?! I do NOT want this man, or anyone of his ilk. I’m going to plead hormones. Does that make any sense? Or maybe it’s intermittent  bursts of insanity. I don’t know. My cousin’s theory is that he represents something that I wish I had. As in, it’s not him, it’s the idea of him. Which makes as much sense as anything, I suppose. It’s definitely not him specifically, I do know that. At least not anymore. And since he was clearly actively lying to me the entire time we were together, he was also likely lying in regards to his perceived “perfect-for-me” quality. So maybe it’s just as simple as I viewed him as perfect for me, due in whatever parts to both his skills in lying and my need to believe in the existence of a mythical “perfect” man.

Ok, that kind of makes sense. I’m really just still sad over the loss of said mythical, “perfect” man. Ha. Gosh, I feel so much better now!

*sigh*

I Believe In Love

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!

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.

Breathe In, Breathe out

I met a man. A wonderful, funny, intelligent, passionate man. A man who was exactly what I needed at the exact point that I needed it. We fell in like, in lust, in love. He loved me, and I loved him.

Then I met his wife, and everything around me crumbled. It’s been a week since I found out, and three days since he and I had our final conversation. He is still the first thing I think about when I wake up in the mornings, and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. I am struggling . . . with the pain, with the lies, with my sense of who I am.

Maybe this will help me focus my thoughts in some way. I hope so.

Dan Jimenez, Adrian Jimenez, escritorio1978