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Posts Tagged ‘break ups’

I’ve been ok, I have been surviving. Sad, yes. Finding the whole thing senseless, yes. Missing this man who I still believe in my gut I am to grow old with and trying to give him space. Then, like he snuck into my room over night, I realized that I had left our glasses on the nightstand. I missed them for days, just sitting there like little memorials, that is how busy I have tried to stay.

I sighed and picked them up. Finding myself a bit overwhelmed with emotion, I sat down on the edge of my bed and stared off, missing his smell, missing his face, the feel of his body hair, arms, chest, head, how tactiley different each is under my fingers. I cried at the realization that I will probably never touch him again. Then, in my hand, I looked at the glass and saw his lip print. Before washing it, I took one photo and placed it to my lips in a sad moment of trying to connect. He’s not there though, it’s just a glass. My pillow didn’t smell like him after he left and my skin, my shoulder, only retained his scent for an hour after we last made love, and god how I hate that phrase, but I realized that it had changed that night. That what started out as fucking took a decidedly different turn shortly after it began. For those last few hours we were together, sharing space, he actually took down the walls.

Jesus Christ, I miss him.

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He expected mayhem, anger and accusations. He assumed the worst, and it proved in the end that he really doesn’t know me. I told him that the last 14 months have been an example of his ordering the entree and only eating the garnish. He never took a bite of the main dish, only looked at it, pushed it around with his fork and decided that it would cause him indigestion if he ate it. You see, it never was about me, any of it.

Trying to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, who doesn’t trust themselves, and who is an eternal pessimist at their core, well, it’s pretty tricky and apparently, doesn’t usually succeed. It is  impossible to show them how worthy they are, they need to find it and feel it in themselves.  He told me a story of himself as a child, to illustrate how long he has been this way; I explained that at some point though, we do have the power to make positive changes to our thinking patterns. That I was a very angry teenager and into my 20’s. It took a lot of work, and sometimes falling back into old patterns, but eventually I was able to look at things and see the positive in life, see how anger was affecting me and limiting me and shutting me off.

He told me that everything ends, and usually badly. That he hasn’t seen examples of it working, of there not being heartbreak, of him not being the cause.  Boy with a fragile sense of self enters the dating world and is eaten alive. Now, at 39, he is so deeply imbedded into a pattern of belief that everything he touches, everyone he touches, will break. How do you convince someone otherwise? How do you hold someones hand and show them that they deserve to not be alone. They deserve to let someone in and be loved. How do you do that, when they don’t believe in their core self that they are worthy of any love and that anyone who does love them, surely they must be fooled.

We had 5 hours of intense, heart-felt conversation. He teared up, I teared up. I told him somethings that he missed while he was pushing me away, things I had told him but he hadn’t heard above his own inner chatter. He apologized deeply, as he realized that he really dropped the ball more than a few times. What it came down to is that his disordered thinking, his disordered sense of self, his belief that he isn’t worthy of anyone’s love and respect because everyone is being fooled and eventually everyone will realize who he really is and then it will all explode, all of THIS is what is standing between he and I. Looking into his eyes and telling him how wonderful he is and forcing him to look back at me as I told him what I saw in him, the level of disbelief in his own eyes, the degree to which he can’t see how amazing and loveable he is, that is what is heartbreaking.

I asked him, what does he have left, if tomorrow the career were to end. Nothing he said. He has nothing outside of work. Friendships have been kept at a distance, mostly built through his colleagues. He has his cat. I told him that it truly doesn’t need to be that way. That letting people in doesn’t have to result in destruction, yet he has only ever walked away feeling destroyed each time he has let someone in.  But he has the best of intentions, when he begins. He just can’t do it.

My flatmate came home and we moved our conversation to the bedroom. Later in the evening I looked up at him and asked me if he would be with me one last time. I felt so connected to him at that moment, I just wanted to hold on to it. He wouldn’t look at me, instead mumbling that he didn’t think it was a good idea. I asked him to look at me and repeated my question, asking if he wanted to be with me one last time. He said yes. We had an intensely passionate last few hours, we held each other tightly afterwards and slept for an hour, curled into each other, hands touching. In my hallway, we hugged. Longer and tighter and with more emotion than I have ever felt from him. He thanked me for everything. I told him that while I knew he wouldn’t, he knew where to find me, if ever…

Last night was the most senseless loss I have ever experienced. All because one little boy grew up thinking he was inherently not worth loving. If any of you have kids, please, love them. Let them know that they deserve it and that they are wonderful and unique and amazing. Otherwise, at 39, they may not be able to let people in, even those who are patient and love them beyond words and actions.

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Mojo is finicky. It comes when it wants to, without warning or cause. It leaves just as suddenly. In the last 5 days I have had people comment on how something looks different, a cloud looks lifted, an energy that was reinvigorated. Everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop. I understand. A colleague of mine made a half joke that she reads the blog in order to see what my mood will be when she sees me, so that she can decide how to be the friend I need that day. She has trepidations, at best, about Type Geek and what transpired last week. I remain cautiously optimistic, yet realistic. I have not heard from him yet, however I had stated early after the incident that I suspected I wouldn’t hear from him until Monday, at the earliest. With his brother’s health struggles and current family drama including a great-niece who is due to be born any day, I assumed that his weekend would be spent with his family in the suburbs. Meanwhile, my taste buds are alive again. Tuesday night woke them up and suddenly I found that I once again had my muse, albeit temporarily. In the last 24 hours, I crafted the bits and pieces of what became the most inspired meal of mine to date. A latin inspired rare steak with layers of heat that made my mouth dance a merengue from the trio of chiles. In the end, I am not sure what is going to happen, but until there are answers, there is food.

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So, I am wondering about all of your dates that could have been potentially dangerous. Scenarios in which the men, or women, weren’t what they said. Either they were married, had criminal records, didn’t want to take no for an answer, etc. You can all answer anonymously, but I am curious because Type Geek is intent on calling me nuts and psychotic for running background checks.  Not financial histories mind you, just basic name, age and criminal record. The more friends and colleagues I run this by, the more women tell me horror stories and men are on the fence. The men say that they would feel violated, however, if you are telling the truth, where is the violation? If you aren’t, shouldn’t the woman feel violated? Type Geek’s response stinks of the old “blame the victim” game. 

So, please readers, I’m interested in your horror stories. By sharing, you may enlighten many people’s eyes out there.

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My birthday is in a few days, and I am feeling far from celebratory. I felt like I was walking into 35 with much possibility, however, in the last 12 months I have lost 2 businesses, a condo, and a love that was unexpected. I’m walking into the new year in pain, with a visible limp. The weekend was supposed to be spent curled up, naked flesh against naked flesh, my nose in his neck, many hours of sleep,  many hours of making love, and the occasional moment of clothed dining. Instead, I have no plans.

The most solid option for doing something is a trip to NYC, which due to the marital and parental status of the majority of my NYC friends, means a stay with my Internet Skype artist guy. Now, don’t get me wrong, he has become a solid friend over the last year, we have surpassed our sex Skypes with conversation Skypes. He sent me a Valentine’s Day mix cd to help me get over my painful split and has offered more understanding than many of my other friends. So, what is the dilemma here? Sex. I’m still very much in love with Type Geek and Skype boy knows this. We spoke honestly about his expectations and assumptions and he said that he understands where I am.

So, where am I? Do I fuck him because Type Geek and I hadn’t had sex in so long and I do need to get laid? Who is that fair to? Is that what I really need, casual sex? Will that make me feel better?

Speaking of feeling better, I have a session with a new therapist next Monday. I’m looking forward to having someone I can vent to on a bi-weekly basis. Perhaps then, I will stop venting here.

I hope everyone out there is doing well. My thoughts are with you all.

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My gut tells me I just made the greatest mistake of my romantic life.  How do you handle the repercussions of your own actions when you realize that what you really wanted, was a conversation, not a split? That when they won’t take you back, telling you that you made the right decision, that you have to listen to your gut, but your gut tells you that you fucked up because this shit that you both are dealing with is temporary and life, but that the love you feel for him is much greater than that? How do you tell someone who the reason you know you are wrong is because your gut, your heart, it all tells you that this man is the man you should grow old with? How do you tell them that you are as sure of how you feel, as the sky is blue, without them thinking you are crazy?

I’m not afraid of being alone. I have done that, and I can do that again. I am terrified of knowing that I have potentially met “HIM” and because life got messy for both of us… I freaked out, I reacted before considering the true repercussions of my actions and now, I have lost him. That wasn’t the result I wanted. I never would have gone over there if I had thought it out. How do you convince someone whom, when you first met you were bored by, only to 7 months later realize that you would spend the rest of your life with them, that giving you a second chance is the right thing to do?

I know you all think he’s an ass, I vented and scowled for so long, but I never shared the little things that made it all great. I need help people. I need advice… think back to when you fucked up and wanted that second chance. What worked? What got you back in? I need that second chance people, so bring on the practical, the romantic, the stupid.. any tips will be appreciated. But please, don’t tell me that all things happen for a reason. I’m asking for tips on convincing someone you love that you deserve a second chance.

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