Monday, August 9, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 74; Fourteen

14 beat out 40 today.   On my way home from Dallas' house, I called S at work.   I didn't have an agenda, a speech, a plan really.  I was 100% flying by the seat of my pants.  Secretly, I hoped he'd finally have that epiphany he's been telling me for months he's never going to have.  My next hope was if that didn't happen, then I'd be able to somehow orchestrate a variation of closure that would seal this vault for good.    We've said hello and goodbye so many times in the past year, I've lost count.

Today was our last goodbye.

His voice, usually so warm and charming, sounded hollow.  My best guess is that it was echoing off the wall he's constructed around his heart.   He was polite, but distant.   I'm not sure why I am surprised or upset by any of this.

Finally, he's being a man and following through, his actions confirming his words.

I'm numb as I type this.   I continue to bang my head against the wall of denial I've built around myself and the blood is certainly oozing.  The stupid thing is, I know I'm about to bang my head each time and I willingly throw it back so as to get better thrust on my forward motion.   Bam!


The conversation was just shy of an hour and was full of phrases like, "How many times do you have to hear me say that I like my life?",  "I am happy", and "We are done."

He asked me why I would continue to even want someone who said those type things to me.   "Because I know you love me deep down" was my pitiful reply.

My email address is on his blocked list and he doesn't read my blog.   I found out today he is "against" blogging and doesn't see the point.   He seemed surprised that people other than my friends actually read this.

All the things I ever gave him are gone, thrown away.   It seems the only thing he's saved was the antique map I gave him for his birthday last year.    Why does that devastate me?   Perhaps because so much of what I gave him was my writing.  I don't want my words or my heart cast aside.

I suppose I should be happy he is doing what he feels to be the right thing.   I don't advocate affairs, as a matter of fact, it might become my life's work to preach against them, but in my heart of hearts, I did everything I did out of an honest belief that it was true love and we were meant to be together.   Naive, I know.

When asked about the truth of everything he ever said to me, the "I love you most of all" and "I will always love you",  he said he lied.   He told me that the truth can always be changed.   That just sounds like a ridiculous quip you find in a stale fortune cookie.   How convenient for him to be able to change his truth, alter his stance to better suit his current needs.

He admitted feeling bad about causing a path of destruction, but was mighty quick to add that I was partially responsible.   And I am.  I never thought otherwise.

But I am boiling mad that he seemingly will go on with his life, business as usual, while A and I are left to pick up the slivers and shards and shrapnel.  You see, I told A just about everything,  for better or for worse.  I respected him enough to feel like he deserved the truth.   We speak openly and frankly about the affair.   S told his wife that he loved me, but pretty much left it at that.

She doesn't know the things he wrote, that he told me he loved me most of all, that we had sex, that we talked for months after she thought we'd stopped.   None of it.

Maybe she doesn't need to know or want to know.  Ultimately, it's none of my business, but yeah, I'm pissed that his life is almost back to normal, while mine is ripping at every outgrown and busted seam.

Of all the things he said though, the most unnecessary and unbecoming was that I have the emotional maturity of a 14 year old.  That was so unlike him and deeply hurtful to me.   I think it hurt most because I know I can be immature (see yesterday's blog), but I thought he loved me and understood how I was.   Again, he proved that my idea of who he was really wasn't as accurate as I once thought.

It's over, I know it.   I banged my head against that wall and it hurts.  Most likely, I'm one concussion away from permanent brain damage.   I know for sure my heart will never be the same.

What I don't know at all is how to move on.   I haven't figured out how to not let a loser make me feel like a loser.    I've done amazing things and I shouldn't have to read my laundry list of accomplishments, but rejection makes me feel SO low, no matter who it's coming from.

I didn't want to say goodbye today.   I didn't want to hear how he's compartmentalized and moved on.   How he doesn't think of me anymore and wants and expects me to do the same.   But I'm mature enough to know that life isn't about getting what you want.   Obviously. 

Someday, I pray I look back on this as a beautiful chapter in my life where I learned an amazing lesson.   Maybe him breaking up for good will end up being the best gift ever.   Right now, it doesn't feel that way.    Right now I want to crawl into bed, hide under the covers and never get out.

His parting words to me were "Have a happy life and take care."






4 comments:

  1. Damm, Kate, I was so disappointed when I read this post, although I wondered when I read that you were going to your friend's house if you would do something stupid...and you did! You are beating yourself up. If you step in front of a bus, you can't complain about getting hit.

    Do you really believe that it's over, or do you just believe it for a few days and then start spinning the fantasy. Yeah, the reality hurts, but it will hurt less if you stop stepping in front of the bus.

    You are better than this. I hope you can stop torturing yourself and believe in your ability to move on regardless of that prick's behavior. It's time to get to the angry stage!

    Take care...

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  2. I've been there. You definitely went through a similar thing as I did. However, I never told my husband at the time that I cheated, to this day he thinks I did but I will never actually tell him. Selfish I know but he was horrible to me. He was an alcoholic and a mean one at that and I had suffered through so much mental, emotional, and physical abuse that I felt that it was not his right to know. Luckily I left but during the marriage I fell in love with someone else, absolutely head over heels in love but he and I knew we would never be together and he moved on and so did I but my heart still thinks of him and misses him sometimes whereas he does not. It sucks and it hurts but it's for the best I'm sure.

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  3. At the end of the day, you can say all you want about his being a liar, a loser, a whatever . . . and he might well be all those things. It doesn't matter.

    Moving on will require that you stop judging him and face your own part in all of it, not least this almost-stalking that you're engaging in.

    What are you getting out of this behavior?
    What's the payoff?

    It's tough to face the fact that all the stuff that we hang our emotional behavior hats on is largely illusion.
    I know that. I know it because I used to be you.

    Life isn't about getting what you want. It's about wanting what you get.

    I think S came on the scene just about when you were looking for a replacement for your mother's all-accepting love. He wanted to get laid, and he, as much as you, liked the playacting of Romance and you got sucked in. After each encounter, he turned it off and went home and you went home and played and replayed the romantic scenes. Doesn't make either one of you a bad person. It worked for both of you then. It isn't working for you anymore.

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  4. My husband looks back at things his affair partner said, and I can see the confusion and disbelief in his eyes. I don't think he is still carrying feelings for her, but he's wondered (aloud) what she was really after.

    Men are super at compartmentalizing -- that's for sure. Maybe you can close up this little chapter by doing a little compartmentalizing of your own. I hope you can find closure and finally move on.

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