Just When You Think the Tears are Done with...

School is finally over. Yesterday was the students last day and today was a day just for teachers. As the media specialist, I still have a few more days of work. I spent most of today cleaning up my office. I had stacks of catalogs, new books, purchase orders and papers I needed to go through.

I was going through a stack of papers when I came across the Dear John Jane email that Mr. X sent. As soon as I realized what it was I should have thrown it right into the big recycling bin, but I didn't. I read it. *yeah, big mistake, I know* Emotions just flooded to the surface again. This letter was full of love and confusion on his part. As I read this letter again today *for probably the umpteenth time since I received* I felt the love he was trying to convey as well as the torment that he was feeling. This is what makes it so hard for me. I know that he loved me when he wrote that letter. I know that was not an easy thing for him to do. But knowing all that doesn't help me to understand why he would throw that all away.

He has some demons inside of him that he is still dealing with and for some reason, he feels that he has to deal with them alone. I think he sees "needing" someone (even for just emotional support) as a sign of weakness in himself. He was definitely the "All man" exterior with the a tender heart inside. He was my John Wayne and I loved him for that. When we had conversations about the things that were going on in his life, I would listen. I would make a suggestions. I would be supportive and tell him that I knew he would work through it all, that he would figure things out and that things would get better. Just as he had done for me many times over. For some strange reason, he felt like I was trying to fix things for him. I can hear him in my head now, "You can't fix this for me" or "This isn't something you can fix." I could never figure out why he saw my faith in his ability to get through this rough time as my wanting to fix things for him. All I ever wanted him to know was that I believed in him. Is that really such a bad thing? I mean, isn't that part of being in a committed relationship - giving each other love and support through rough times - more so than when things are all honky-dory?

Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks about us, about what he threw away. Does he regret what he did? When he looks at his bookshelf and see my books on the top shelf does he remember my sitting on his couch reading while he was doing work on his computer? When he goes in his closet and sees the handcuffs or the box of my things that I left at his place does he think of me? When he wrap the blanket that I made him around his legs at night does it remind him of the love that went into making it for him? *at least I am assuming my things are still in all those places since despite asking him three times to return my belongings (not the handmade gifts) I have received nothing*

I ended up in the staff bathroom with a box of tissues. All I wanted to do was come home, crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and hide from the world. But I couldn't or rather wouldn't. I had made plans to go out to dinner with some friends to celebrate the end of the school year and I couldn't bail on them again. Not because of him. So at the end of the work day, I met my gfs at Jaleo's and had tapas. I really wanted to load up on some tequila so that I didn't have to feel the pain inside, but unfortunately I had to drive home. So I pushed the pain back down inside to deal with at another time and went on with my evening. I enjoyed good food, good company, *of course I had one tequila cosmopolitan, I'm no saint* and a relatively nice evening out with friends.