I really want to remember this summer as a good one, that satisfied something I needed and introduced me to good sex. It’s hard because now it feels tainted, or like it was a trick and all the nice feelings were just illusions.
Unfortunately I don’t think A is a bad guy. It would be much easier if he were. Despite sending me mixed messages he didn’t want anything serious and didn’t fall in love with me. It didn’t mean as much to him.
My commuting companion brought flowers home for his wife today and I really struggled not to cry. At some point in my life I would very much like for someone to adore me as much as I adore them. It’s hard not to feel unlovable when nobody’s ever spontaneously given you flowers.
I’m not saying I approve but I understand.
White men in the kitchen talking about Michael Brown.
Abort mission! Abort mission! I can do without a second cup of coffee.
Well, I guess now that I am not caught up in any romantic fantasies it’s time to find a shelter or rescue to volunteer at. There are a few relatively close by so I could spend a day “shopping” around this weekend.
You know what’s real eerie? Hoagie was really nasty towards A all weekend. Guarding me, watching his every move and even snapping at him. He’s always been totally tolerant of A up until then.
Have you ever sent a final letter to someone who didn’t allow you to speak your truth in person? I know better, but since I’ve been writing down all the things I wish I’d said to A, I am really tempted to. Because before he left on Sunday, I managed to accept all the guilt for my pain and, as I cried over him, wound up comforting him as he cried about his personal anguish and trauma from his last relationship. He kept stroking my hair and telling me I’m pretty and left with his hands clean, because I was too concerned with protecting his feelings to call him out on anything.
I want him to know that I know that I was taken for a ride. That while I am responsible for ignoring all his bright red flags, I do recognize that he’s used me as an emotional airbag and sexual outlet. His opinion of me should not matter but I hate knowing that he considers me gullible, pathetic or stupid. The alternative, if I were to give him a piece of my mind, is that he thinks of me as psycho or … still pathetic. And/or he could respond with something that would devastate me even more.
[Did I mention he came to the beach with me despite not wanting to (he admitted this Sunday) and a few days beforehand when I checked in about his ETA he told me he feels bad because he’s fresh out of money and will have to mooch off me all weekend but he’ll return the favor next time. There wasn’t going to be a next time. That must have been his way of trying to get me to cut him loose but I played along because, well, I am pathetic. That display of self-disrespect on my part probably solidified his low regard for me.]
Seeking closure, or catharsis, is just a way to try to gain back a little bit of control, which can never be recovered.