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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So Far, Time Is Not On My Side

My son and I spent several hours playing outside today, which was good for us both. I feel like the world’s worst mother for how distracted and despondent I’ve been lately. I’m generally a person who loves to laugh, who loves to see the humor and absurdities in life. SInce I fell, plummeted, crashed, had my still beating heart ripped violently from my chest, I have barely managed a smile, let alone an honest burst of laughter or joy. I know it is affecting my son. How could it not?

I manage bursts of anger at him, the him who broke my heart, the him who promised me things he had no right to promise, the him who dared me to believe, waited until I did and then left me standing here bewildered and alone, but so far I’ve been unable to maintain them for very long. Again, perhaps it is a time thing, or perhaps it’s just that I’m not an angry woman in general, I don’t know. The anger I do manage to work up is fleeting. It’s not enough to sustain me.

From where I am sitting, curled up on the sofa, I can see into the room I use for my art studio. The piece I was making for him is still there. I have no idea what to do with it right now, so there it sits. It just makes me sad. I keep hoping the urge to paint something will hit me, and I’ll be inspired and strong enough to go in there and paint over it. Someday it will, I suppose. Not today, though.

I feel very wistful about what could have been. I wish this had all been different, ended differently, NOT ended at all, no lies, no deception, only the love I thought we had. I still miss him. I don’t WANT to miss him, to miss someone with no respect for, well, I don’t know if it’s completely fair to say no respect for women in general, but at least no respect for two women in particular. But I did truly love him. So I do. I miss him. It’ll pass eventually.

Dan Jimenez, Adrian Jimenez, escritorio1978

Today Was A Very Long Day

Today was hard. Songs on the radio, people in love walking down the street holding hands, even the sound my phone makes when I get a message . . . it all reminded me of how things used to be. I think I’m doing fine, or decent, or at least semi-ok but all it takes is one little thing, and my breath catches in my chest, the pulse in my neck and my wrists starts jumping around and the butterflies in my stomach flutter to life.

So he’s the wrong man for me. I get that, intellectually. But I still miss him. The burst of righteous anger I managed to work up yesterday has passed, and I just feel sad and broken.

I miss being in love.

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.

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.