DAMN HIM!!

Girlfriends and tequila (*too mucch tonight*) are the things that get me through when the feelings become too much... and not always in that order.

Can someone please tell me when does the hurt and crying end? My therapist keeps telling me that loss is a three month ordeal. Well, it's been three months! And I still cry when I think of him and what we had together. And what he threw away! How does a man ask you to be his wife in August and then in February, call everything off. I mean everything - the engagement, the relationship, and the friendship - everything. I still don't understand how someone can just totally turn off their emotions like that. He threw away the best damn thing he had as if it was one of his cigarette wrappers.

Some days I have such rage inside me over what Mr. X did that all I want to do is smash stuff. I just want to pick up my glass or the bottle (and there were... ok, ok still are, plenty of empty ones around my house) and throw it against the wall in a fit of anger and watch the smashed bits scatter. I feel like nothing else will calm this rage. I know some people can walk, run or bike off their anger. Not me. Nope. I want to smash things. Of course my waist line would much prefer that I turn to physical activities to relieve anger - maybe I should take up boxing! Then I can put Mr. X's picture on the bag and pound away... *the wheel begin turning as I try to figure out where I can hang one of those punching bags* Unfortunately, that's not really me either, too bad. I haven't felt this kind of rage inside of me since I was in high school. The asshole wrote me a "Dear John Jane" email and send it to my work email address! And yes, I was AT WORK when I read it, so I'm sure you can image what the rest of my day was like! He didn't even have the freakin' courage to do it over the phone. It was a long distance relationship, so face-to-face really wouldn't have happened, of course I wonder if he would have had the cahones to do that had we been living within driving distance of each other.

Then there are days when my mind just wonders to the times we spent together. The conversations we shared. The laughter. The hopes. The secret smiles. The winks that warmed me. The touches that tightened my belly. The plans we had made... and then the pain starts and the tears follow. Like now. Damn him! Damn, damn, damn, damn!

Shit, I walk around my house and there are little things all over the place that remind me of what we had together. I go grill out on the deck and I can picture him fixing the gate that swings off my back deck. I go to the basement and I remember him playing with Frisco and fixing the closet doors. I sit down and watch TV and remember him dragging me to Best Buy so he can buy a bigger TV for me because my ex-husband got the big TV in the divorce settlement. I sit on the couch and remember us snuggling together watching the new TV. Hell, I can't even sit in my bathroom and not think of him because he installed the toilet paper holder for me and he bought me these great, thick bath towels. And when I'm in my bed... that's the hardest... I remember all the intimate times we shared there.

How did something that felt so right, I mean more right than anything else in my life, go so wrong? I tend to be a pretty good judge of character and my gut (woman's intuition, 6th sense - whatever you want to call it) is pretty dead on when it comes to people. Now granted, I don't always listen to it. There have been times were I would swear it was wrong and ignore it, but in the end... IT was always right... except this time. This time... I don't know what happened, but IT was so wrong. So very, very wrong. I don't know how else to explain it.


Back when he was starting to get more serious about his feelings, I was very hesitant. I was living in my sister's basement, looking for a house to buy, going through therapy, and waiting for my divorce. Needless to say, I was not out looking for love, or a relationship, just a friend that I could talk to and wasn't trying to give me "divorce advice". I was worried about how I was going to survive a mortgage payment and bills in an outrageously priced living area on my measly teacher salary! But one night I had this dream, I was house hunting (go figure since that was what consumed most of my time when I wasn't at work... ok, so I'm no saint and yes I searched for house in the Internet while I was at work too! You happy now?) and the set up of the house was really weird, but that's not the important part. Mr. X was in this dream and he knew my affinity for horror movies. Anyway, he grabbed my hand, "I want to show you something," and he pulled me toward this huge painting hanging on the wall. He took his finger and slide it over a portion on the frame and then pushed an area... (now if you were paying attention to the fact that I admitted I like horror movies you can see what's comin')... A secret passage was revealed behind the painting and before I could take it all in, Mr. X tightened his grip on my hand and took off running down the passage. As we were running, I could feel something (yes, something, and no I did not look behind me to see what it was) tapping at my shoulder. But Mr. X was running and he had a grip on my hand, so I was running behind him laughing. He was holding my hand as if he would never let it go. Shortly after that I woke up, but when I woke up I had this overwhelming feeling that I was safe, that I was protected, that he would protect me. That he would never let go of me. That dreams and that sense of security and sureness I felt when I woke up that morning (and no, that was some adverse affect from drinking or drugs) is what made me take the chance and open up my heart to him.



*dramatic pause here....*


.....



DUMBASS!! Color me stupid!

Wow, apparently my IT and my dreams conspired against me!


Of course, now I wonder how will I ever trust IT again. Hell, how will I ever trust another person again. I trusted him with my heart and this is what I have to show for it...

My mom keeps telling me "You have to let it go" and how come I didn't cry this much when I ended my marriage. Yes, I ended it - a story for another time perhaps. What she doesn't know is that I cried in my marriage for years. Her and I just never had that kind of relationship where I felt very comfortable sharing that kind of stuff with her. Of course in her mind, she doesn't understand why I wanted out of that marriage to begin with - and I won't go into that now either, let's just say my mother is very old world when it comes to the idea of marriage. But for fuck's sake the ex and I had been legally separated for almost 2 years and divorced now for 6 months. It doesn't get more over then that without a funeral!


The purpose of relationships is to learn to know someone, really know them and love them. I know that sometimes, we can never really know a person, that sometimes there is something that we just never see, because we love them. Sometimes I think I knew him better than he knew himself. Sometimes I wonder if that is what scared him...

Time to crawl in to bed and pass out. I'm going to regret all that tequila in the morning.