I’m not crazy. I worked it out in my head over and over. I know what I heard.
I don’t know what you heard, but it wasn’t me.
The man that I relied upon to always have my back, the man that I married when I said I would never get married, the man with whom I had children when I said I would never procreate, was telling me it wasn’t him. I wanted so badly to believe him. But how can a 3 minute and 50 second phone call be wrong. I wished SO badly I had not answered so that it would be recorded. Then I could know for sure if I heard what I knew I had heard.
Maybe he just picked a girl up at a bar, I thought. Maybe she was a hooker with a great sales pitch.
We’re interested in a bottle of wine to start here and take to our room.
It was just too familiar. “The room” would have been better than “our room”. As if better mattered.
The first time we Skyped we turned it to ice. (If you had outages around September 8th blame me. If you have the heart.) He looked like hell. And I was dripping icicles. I could barely make eye contact. I knew right then that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this unbelievably, holy what? situation while he was traveling. Attempting to do so would be like asking me to willingly endure the placement of 50 spiders of varying breeds all across my strapped down body. Not gonna happen.
“I just want to come home. I want my family back.”
You want us back? Did we go somewhere?
In those first few days after sitting under the full moon I reflected back on his reaction to my “You’re a bastard!” texts and the phone call that froze him in the lobby of some airport hotel. He was beyond tweaked. For an innocent guy that would not be the normal reaction. I know. I checked in with my girls. When I told them he started to cry they said, “Honey, that pocket call was divine intervention.”
In the middle of the night-of-the-pocket-call (4 AM) he texted me this: Oh. I am so sorry you had that experience. I just woke up outa the blue (Yea, right. She probably just hopped off you and you had a moment to spare.) and felt sick to my stomach about what that must have felt like. I love you. I don’t know what you heard, but I know it wasn’t me. I love you and I am sick thinking that I hurt you and I didn’t do anything. I feel like someone hit me with a board out of nowhere when I was just moving forward. This sucks. I feel helpless.
Denial is a crazy thing, isn’t it?
Love your blog. Saw an article about it online. Keep writing!
I wrote a similar blog once. No names. I was trying to get over a guy I worked with. He would sit there and look at me from the studio across the way and I would be in there all day seeing him doing his work. I would type to be able to have an outlet. I also stupidly told him about the blog, and it became a weird way of communicating. He told his new girlfriend about my blog, and she started reading it. She read it for yearS!!
They’re married now..and I am with a guy who’s a lot better!! Breaking up sucks, though. The shattered trust is the worst of it. Things like you describe here are the worst of it. The lies. Oy.
B,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and read HGM.
“Breaking up sucks, though.” So much so that it can prevent one from wanting to love again. I hope that doesn’t happen to me. I am really going to work on my bravery (Is that why I want to swim the bay? Climb Everest? To prove that I am brave enough to date someone? Holy arachnid, that’s potentially nuts.) so that the possibility of heartache doesn’t have me grow old without loving again.
Love yourself,
Cleo
After I had found out my truth, but I had yet to reveal it to the important involved parties (my fiance and his wife), I was standing on his front porch trying to decide if I could really do this and tell his wife what he had been doing to me and to her behind our backs. We had been arguing over the phone and text that day, and while he didn’t know I knew, he had been saying some strange things and he texted me:
“I don’t want a wife or a girlfriend right now.”
He didn’t know at the time I knew he had both.
DING DONG.
That’s all I needed. Thanks babe for the encouragement.
E,
How’s that for a catalyst from the Universe! Love it! “He didn’t know at the time I knew he had both.” How very Adele.
You have extracted yourself from a very tangled web. I trust that you will honor yourself, explore what makes your spirit soar and then accept nothing less. You are beautiful.
Love yourself,
Cleo