Weird Memory

I just had a weird memory of my stepfather. I was writing out his Christmas card today, saying how I was glad to have him around, and I remembered being a kid in high school, and he showed me this card my mom gave him. He said, "Isn't this neat?" I opened it up, and there was a handwritten message about handjobs in it -- between two married adults, fine, in private. But don't share it with your wife's teenage daughter.

Inappropriate. And creepy. I had forgotten all about that.

Not my hubby

After we had been together for about 7 months, {The Ex} and I flew out to see my family. When we were in the airport, waiting for our plane for our return flight, I think there was a point where he got up to get some water and I didn't see him leave, so I was looking all around for him, but I couldn't go far, because I had to watch all over our stuff. He came back and I said, "I couldn't find you, I was worried." And he said, "Aww, you were like, 'Where'd my hubby go?'" And I gave him a strange look, because, dude, I love(d) you but you were NOT my hubby. I think I knew then that he was unsuitable hubby material. The jealousy. The crushing anxiety and neediness. The love-bombing, the expectation that I would give up everything else, the disappointment in me when I wouldn't, the disappointment in himself that he needed that. I could see him growing, but I didn't know if it would all add up to him being a life-partner. He was the best roommate I'd ever had, but only because he was doing everything in his power to please me, to make life easier for me, so I wouldn't leave him. Before I knew I had any reason to leave him.

Focusing on my serenity

I realize that I've been posting a lot about {The Ex}, so I should probably turn the focus back to me, and my program. I went to three meetings yesterday, to make 8 for 8 for my 90 in 90 (Ninety meetings in ninety days). I've been feeling off forever...not lined up with my Higher Power, in a lot of anxiety, eating a lot of sugar and wheat, unable to sleep, avoiding people. Haven't been doing yoga. Haven't been taking care of me. I think the 90 in 90 will help turn the focus back on me, and get me back to serenity.

I feel a lot of grief, and I hate it. I stuffed down that grief for weeks, because I was/am so angry. I judged myself for needing to shed tears over someone who betrayed me. But maybe it's not me crying for him...maybe it's me crying for me. My sponsor said that I was probably also grieving over the dreams of the life we were going to build together, grieving the loss of those dreams. Yes. And grieving for the dreams I gave up, or deferred. I kept deferring my dreams for him because he asked me to. I grieve that naive little girl that I was, so dazzled by a bouquet of flowers, having never gotten flowers before from anyone but myself.

judge the quality of the lover by the love of the giver, not the gift of the lover

I really don't know how long it will take to get past all of this grief. After I talked to {The Ex} it felt like it had right after we broke up -- I curled up into a little ball and started weeping hysterically. I didn't eat at all that day. I wish we had rituals for grief. I wish we could mourn a relationship like we mourned death. I wish I could wear black. I still have fun. I go on dates. I watch comedies. I'm not going to be eaten alive by this again.

When I talked to {The Ex} the other day, I asked him that if his relationship with his fiancee, M., was so dark and messed-up, why he hadn't just broken up with her before dating someone else. And he said, "Well, you haven't heard my side of the story."

Um. The facts are that he started dating me before he broke up with her, lying to us both, left her high and dry on Christmas, and then went back to her again and again during our two year relationship, telling her that I had moved and that he didn't love me, and was emotionally and physically abusive to her. So no, I don't really see what side of the story he could offer that could explain or justify his behavior to anyone but himself.

So he is still in selfishness, still in self-centeredness.

I knew well-enough then, that anyone who could pursue me while still in relationship with someone else could and probably would do the same to me. And I stayed away from men like that. Only M. was a secret from everyone, so everyone thought he was single, no one knew.

And he did do to me what he did to M., he lined up Vanilla Perfume Woman while still with me.

There are things that don't sit right with me still. He still has some justification for his behavior, he's still trying to justify it. The other woman, E., has no reason to lie to me about there being more women, he has every reason to lie. Then there are the women who turned on a dime on me, who used to be nice to me and then were suddenly catty and mean. And there are still the men. The guy at the hot yoga studio. The very very long disappearance at the Cut Copy show. The constant re-telling of the story of the male movie star who made a creepy pass at him. The time he smelled of vodka. The only things these things add up to are he is untrustworthy.

I mean, at least W. tells me the truth. It's shitty that I consider that progress, but I do.

"It gets better, it gets better, and then it's like it never got better at all." -Waking The Dead

I took this picture when I was in the process of packing up my old apartment in {City.} {The Ex} helped me pack and clean the apartment. I had put this up in our apartment before he moved out. It was for me to see, to be supportive of myself and all of my big dreams, but also to be supportive of him, because he was so down on himself all the time.

And now I know why.

I wish you didn't need it anymore

I understand exactly what you use it for

And better isn't always doing well

I know because I'm better now myself

And it's true

I need it too

But not the way that you do

I wish I didn't love you quite as much

The reason that we never talk and never touch

is the same reason that I've never done enough

to show you that you never needed to earn my love

And it's true

You love me too

But not the way that I do

-That I Do, Wye Oak

Schadenfreude

{The Ex} quit smoking when he was with me. He took it up again right after we broke up, and hasn't been able to kick it again.

My serenity is not at its best at the moment.

Semantics

When I was back in {City}, W. told me that he loved me. I was surprised, but I didn't take it personally, as I think what he means by love and what I mean by love are two entirely different things, and I think his meaning of love means "I am infatuated with you, I feel comfortable sharing with you, I enjoy talking about books with you, and also I want to sleep with you but in no way does this imply any sort of trust, responsibility, or commitment." In simple terms, I think his version of love means he feels warm and fuzzy around me.

I have more commitment from my cats. So. Fine. I've been doing my own thing, not worrying about W. for a while. Then tonight {The Ex} called, and while [fine] it was also traumatic. Dredging up sewage. Maybe all that will be healing someday, but for now it's just gross. It's gross.

I posted this to Facebook: "Well, it seems to me that all healing is the work of love, because all healing takes place in a context where we wish to promote growth. We wish to engage the organism in ways that people grow stronger. I find myself telling people that my wish for the rest of my life is that all the work I do would be about healing. I want people to heal." -bell hooks

W., whom I haven't heard from in a while, texted me. He is uncomfortable with other people having uncomfortable feelings, so when I responded to his are-you-ok with a no, he said he wanted to turn into a dancing bear t0 amuse me out of my sadness, but he didn't ask any particulars. (Don't go to the hardware store for bread...)

But at the end of the convo he said: "It would be disingenuous of me to say that I love you. But please know that I am sending love your way, and hoping you have a better day tomorrow."

Words are so important. I would rather have a friend send love, than say he loves me. I would rather have a friend who knows that there's a difference, and that it's an important one.

Bird Imagery

The Ex called today. To "apologize and fully own up" to what he had done, and to tell me the truth, even though I already knew it, to hear it from him.

It was fine. I mean, it was traumatic, but I didn't hear anything I didn't know. I asked for specific names, and for dates. He started dating a woman on the side, whose name I know now, five months before we broke up. In June 2008 I told him that I did not want to live in {City} anymore, that I was going to move to NYC, that I had the money and I would do it on my own. He begged and pleaded for me to stay, and promised that we would go together. On my next trip, I came back with all of this I Heart NY stuff, and while I was gone (for 48 hours) he sent me the following poem. He kept asking me why I didn't just leave him (and this was before I knew anything), and if I did make movements to leave him he begged and pleaded me to stay, and pulled out calendars and promised to make good on the move, all the while biding his time to line up Vanilla Perfume.

The apology was...fine. But too late. You can sleep upon my doorstep/ you can offer me indifference, Jim./ But my mind is made up/ and I'll never let you in again. It was okay. He talked about his sponsor. But he didn't tell me the full truth. I know there are more women. There's at least one more, and when I asked about her, he said there weren't any. And he wouldn't budge on that. And when I asked if he wanted to tell me that, since he was "coming completely clean", he got defensive and said, "Well, let me ask YOU if there's..." and then he took a breath, and said nevermind. So homeboy was about to ask me if I'd had anyone on the side. Right. The answer is no. And then, before I got off the phone he said that he "hoped I'd find it in my heart to forgive him, less for his sake than my own."

Right. SAs. This is not a good amends. It's shit. It's really lame.

Anyway, this was the poem he sent me right before we had our last fight about NY. When he sent me this, he was already on the lookout for the next blind lady who wanted to buy a bridge:

Under a cherry tree

I found a robin's egg,

broken, but not shattered.

I had been thinking of you,

and was kneeling in the grass

among fallen blossoms

When I saw a blue scrap,

a delicate toy, as light

as confetti

It didn't seem real,

but nature will do such things

from time to time.

I looked inside:

it was glistening, hollow,

a perfect shell

Except for the missing crown,

which made it possible

to look inside.

What had been there

is gone now

and lives in my heart

Where, periodically,

it opens up its wings,

tearing me apart.

Phillis Levin

Grief

Been feeling a lot of grief lately. The FOO that lives in my head tells me I should have feelings like this anymore, that I should be over it. My real FOO, the one that's in recovery, is understanding. My mom said, "It was so recent. Of course you have grief."

Woman Anonymous wrote about grief in her blog, and she found out 2.5 years ago! Ouch...

After having so much peace and resolution about Husband's lies and infidelity, and a lot of growth and learning under my belt, I'm always surprised when I backslide. Grief still seeps in some days, even though there's no logical reason for that to happen.

I think despite progress I still grieve the loss of what I thought I had, the life I thought I was leading, the man I thought I married. And that feels like a deep thing, a heart thing. So I guess not something that my mind can resolve for me. Maybe it's just like grieving a death. Over time you come to terms with it, but there is still a loss that may always be felt as a loss