Posts Tagged ‘IMY’

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

April 24, 2011

Life goes on.  We read.  We write.  We’re happy.  We hurt.  And yet, we’re lucky enough to wake up in the morning – no matter the emotional condition.  We agonize over that.  We ache for what could have, should have been, but isn’t or isn’t what we thought, what we wanted, what we imagined.  Be careful what you wish you for.  I no longer have enough fingers to count the number of times I’ve thought it, said it and felt it.

I started this post a month ago, and as I’ve re-read the following, it is relevant today too, so I’ll keep it and add from there.

——————–

So here I am.  3/17/2011.  A year ago today, MM was with his (ex) wife, back from a weekend in Mexico, celebrating her 40th birthday because the spa certificate wasn’t good enough for her and she had posted pictures of her “awesome 40th” on Facebook extolling the great time they had; MM sent me emails during the weekend talking about how much sleep he was getting as he hadn’t been feeling well during the week (liar); MM and I had plans to get together unbeknownst to anyone but us — the first time since 12/4/09 on 3/18/10.  And let’s not forget that he couldn’t see me or speak with me, publicly that is, while he was “working through things.”  It still burns me to think about that.  At what point will I be able to let it go?  Will I ever be able to let it go?  I don’t know the answer to that.

So, a year ago tomorrow, MM and I were meeting at a diner halfway between where he lives and where I live.  He wasn’t wearing his wedding band for the first time ever with me (ah, the fucking ring 😉 ) and despite all the water under the bridge, it felt like no time had passed.  I burned with anger, with passion, with resolve.  I wanted to slap him, kiss him, kill him, make love to him.  The day after our meeting, he told his wife that he wanted to separate.  She agreed.  He felt guilty.  I can relive every second, every feeling, every thought as if it were yesterday.  Yet it a year ago.

Tomorrow, MM/BF is coming to my town and bringing his kids, for the weekend.  Quite the dichotomy.  I was speaking to MM/BF’s son this evening and he asked me when I was going to be his step mother.  He told me that he would like that very much.  He thinks that I’m nice.  That was sweet.  I told him that I think he’s nice too.  I can’t answer his question.

————————-

MM/BF has been having panic attacks lately.  About money, life, stress, work, etc.  Bad enough that when he was here, the attack was so bad that we went to the emergency room of a local hospital.  Nothing like sitting in a psych ward on a Sunday.  He walked out with a couple of prescriptions and with a warning to see his doctor. 

Yes, the stress of the past year has gotten to him.  In fact, the stress of the past 45 years has finally caught up with him.  No big surprise.  I confess that I find it difficult to garner sympathy for someone having a panic attack.  Why can’t you just “psych yourself out of it?”  I know that’s not possible, but I wonder about it none the less.

The stress:  about getting fired, getting caught, getting hired, getting fired, getting divorced.  Boo hoo.  I’ve been under a lot of stress too and haven’t had panic attacks.  Why not?  Where do they come from?  Why can’t he control them?  Why do I always have to be the strong one?  Why do I have to take care of everything?

MM/BF came to my town, with his kids, for most of their spring break.  I got to see first hand, for an extended period of time, how he deals with life.  Quite interesting to say the least.  I was the one that disciplined his kids; I was the one that made the daily decisions – what to do, where to go, what to eat, when to bathe, etc., etc.  As for his kids – MM/BF and I had a long, painful conversation.  What I said to him was – you moved out in December 2010, your kids did not become this way in 4 months.  You had 11 years in the same house with them and your now ex-w.  Where were you as a father?  Where were you as a parent?  What were you doing?  What were you thinking about?  It wasn’t a good conversation.  He cried.  I didn’t comfort him.  We all live with the choices and decisions we make.  Luckily with children, every day is a chance to change and make a difference.  Why didn’t it bother him that he didn’t have a co-parent or a partner to help him parent?  Why did he completely abdicate control?  If your wife was spanking the kids and you didn’t approve, why did you allow it to happen, no matter how often or infrequently?  Why didn’t you stop her?  Why did you just shrug your shoulders and look the other way?  Parenting is hard work and while rewarding, isn’t always fun.  You don’t get to be “uncle daddy” and think that everything is going to be okay.

I sat his kids down, with my younger kid as there was some fighting going on.  We had a “talk it out” that I conducted in a fairly strict or rigid way – giving everyone a chance to speak, to not speak over the other person and for all of us to come up with a solution.  It was successful. 

MM/BF told his shrink that he had spent his adult life and his parenting life married to someone who was not an adult, someone who could never have controlled the situation and done what I had done.  Enough bashing of the ex-w.  What I want to know is — where was he?  What was he doing? 

I don’t want to be a parent to his kids.  It’s exhausting enough parenting my own as a single mother.  It’s hard enough stressing out about work (or lack thereof), my ex’s bad behavior, unemployment without worrying about him.  I’m tired.

MM/BF and I are in the same niche industry.  He recently applied for a job that I would have liked to apply for.  I gratuitously told him to go ahead, even though he has a job and I don’t.  Without thinking about how this would really effect me, he went ahead and applied.  I have vacillated about submitting my own application.  I spoke to him about it and he told me to apply and that he didn’t mind.  I don’t see a good outcome out of that application.  In fact, the only positive outcome I see is for him not to get the job.  If we both applied and I got it, he would resent me; if he got, I would resent him.  If I don’t apply and he gets it, I will forever wonder – what if.  It’s not a good position to be in.  I’m losing sleep over it.  What if? 

Would have, should have, could have. 

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?

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It’s Done – Part 3

January 8, 2011

MM signed his final divorce agreement Wednesday, January 5, 2011.   Another date I can add into the timeline of my past 12 1/2 months.

12/4/09 – the last time MM and I made love

12/9/09 – DD

12/10/09 – MM exiled to Florida

[I subsequently learned: 12/12/09 – MM emailing W and writing letter about what a horrible thing he did (and then sharing it with me, looking for ME to help him out of his own words being used against him during divorce proceedings):

I have committed adultery and carried on an adulterous affair.  I can’t imagine your pain.  I am intensely sorry and I now realize how incredibly horrible I was to do this.  But I am not a loser.  If you sincerely believe that I am a loser and was never a good person, then we should consider ending our marriage.  I don’t want to do that.  I want to try and deal with this with you in order to try and repair our marriage.  While I understand that you need time to deal with your pain and anger, I think that we need to get into counseling as soon as possible if we are going to have a chance to make things right.  I don’t think it is enough to get advice from friends and family members or to just reflect on things ourselves.  Professional counselors have training and experience and have helped plenty of people in our situation.  I would like to come home, find a place to stay, and go to counseling with you as soon as possible.
I hope you will give this some consideration.  I love you and I want to prove to you that you can love and trust me.  I also want to make sure that the kids are shielded from what goes on between you and me.

I hope you mean that I need to prove that I know that I messed up and that I will never do this again.  To prove that I love you and recognize the severity of what I did.  I don’t understand you wanting me to prove that I am worth it.  We have been together for almost 14 years.  This was a horrible thing, but it was isolated and stupid and it will never happen again.  If you don’t see my worth as a person who has made a terrible, selfish mistake, but who is a good person, then there are other problems.  I really think that a counselor could help us with this, and the sooner the better.  I would be willing to come up just for the counseling and leave afterward.

I love you.

12/14/09 – the last time MM and I spoke

[12/14/09 – I since learned of the letter that MM wrote W explaining his “bad behavior” and how it was horrible and selfish and will never happen again.  How he loves his w, how they have a “story book” marriage, how he is so sorry and will spend the rest of his life making up for his affair.]

12/28/09 – the last instant message from MM telling me he missed me and was sorry that he hurt me. 

1/12/10 – the “However comma” no contact email from MM and his W

1/26/10 – We spoke — I called to tell him that he was embarrassing me publicly. 

2/5/10 – or thereabouts – after he asked me to travel with him, took his W;

[I since learned: 2/15/10- went to FL with his W and kids and fucked his w in FL for the first time in 14 years]

3/10 – we agreed to see each other, w found out, forbid it and told him they should leave the state;

3/10 – MM took his W to the Caribbean for her birthday and sent me emails telling me how much sleep he got over the weekend and how he couldn’t wait to see me

3/10 – saw MM midway between his state and mine and it was if no time had passed; he resolved to end his marriage.

4/10 – I told MM that I was done with him finally.  He told me he loved me, when his W came home from her vacation he was leaving her.

4/10 – W came home, they had dinner and she raised divorce and he agreed.

. . . . And they are off to the races.

On January 5, 2010 I eulogized MM in my blog.  It was cathartic.  A year later, MM eulogized his marriage to me.  I went to see him on 1/4 and spent the night.  It was a 4 hour drive there and 4 hours back.  He had to be in court at 8:30 am.  Papers were signed and the divorce is final.  It will be entered by the court in 3 months.  I couldn’t wait for him to be done as I had to get home to pick up my kids from school.  He commented that ex-W wore skinny jeans and big black boots to court and looked like a “$3 hooker.”  Funny to think about.  He wore a jacket, pants and button down shirt.  I told him that in my opinion it epitomized their differences.  She could finally be who she is as, as could he.

I told one of my dear friends that the divorce was final and he asked me how much longer before I ended the relationship.  I laughed, but the thought has crossed my mind.  Where do we go from here.  There’s a lot of water under the bridge.  And when I try to discuss it, MM says:  I don’t want to talk about that now; I don’t want to think about that now.  He’s a perfect Scarlett O’Hara.  Does that make me Rhett Butler?

Addiction

November 12, 2010

I have a friend who works in a hospital helping addicted people – mostly teens, but anyone with an addiction.  The other night we spoke about heroine, methadone and what it does to quiet the need for other.  My understanding is that methadone quiets the receptors that call for the heroine, thereby diminishing the need/urge/addiction.  I asked my friend that if we can quiet those receptors in the brain, why we can’t use methadone to help other addictions.  For example someone addicted to alcohol, or shopping or food or going to the gym or is in love with a MM?  Why if we can use methadone to quite the “needy” receptors in someone’s brain and cause them to refrain from shooting heroin, couldn’t we find something to, let’s say, quiet the brain’s need to be in love with a married man?

My MM has kept me up to speed on every single gory detail about his divorce.  I know that I’ve written about that, but it never ceases to amaze me.  I know about the discovery demands and responses, the deposition testimony, the acrimony about dividing up the personal property and on and on and on.

There’s something interesting in a relationship with a MM (and I don’t mean boyfriend.)  While we, the OW, accept their position as married, from my perspective I didn’t find the ugly green monster of jealousy rise too much to the surface.  Every once in a while it would bother me.  In fact, for the most of my relationship with MM, I didn’t ask him whether he and his w were having sex.  I didn’t want to think about it and so I didn’t ask.  I knew that it was infrequent, if at all and he told me more than once that he was more married to me that way, than to her.  I remember him telling me the last time he and his w had sex was in October 2008.  That when she would initiate, he would say he was tired or something.  I wasn’t having sex with anyone else during that time – but went out on dates, kissed, held hands, thought about it, but nothing further.

MM was in town for business this week.  I have the flu.  So off he went to work, and I stayed in bed.  He has left some clothes here, some papers, some toiletries – to establish an existence here while he prepares to move out of his house and into a new home – like a dual residency.  He empties out his suitcase and puts his stuff in drawers in my home.  He put his bag on the window sill and I went to move it to close the window and noticed that there was “stuff” inside the bag.  It turned out to be papers, folders of his legal/matrimonial action.  I’ve seen all of the documents – he has forwarded everything to me.  Except the deposition transcript.  Which was in the bag.  Which screamed at me to read it.  So, whether I should have or shouldn’t have, I did.  And I didn’t like what I read.  While I knew he was questioned extensively about the infamous apology letter he wrote to his w, during his exile, I didn’t know how much effort he put into “fixing” his marriage, making it work, atoning for the sins of his affair, apologizing for putting his family at risk and everything he loves (none of it was me, of course) and how very stupid and selfish he was, how very much he loves his w more than anything.  What I learned was that he took her to the holiday party at his new company (from which he has since been fired) and stayed at the same hotel that he and I would stay in when I would come to his town; that he brought her on a business trip to another state that he had ASKED ME TO GO WITH HIM TO, in February 2010, that up until July or August, he and his w would share a bottle of wine.  That a month before the deposition (in September) he was still, albeit rarely, continuing to look at on-line pornography/women.   But the one thing that I saw, shoved into the transcript was a piece of paper with his hand written notes, detailing all of the sexless vacations they had and how even when they were intimate, there was no connection, that whenever they would go south to stay with his parents they NEVER had sex EXCEPT THIS PAST FEBRUARY 2010, DURING OUR NO-CONTACT PERIOD.  Actually, it was worse than that – he had been emailing me and calling me and then, out of the blue, he told me that he had to think things through but that I was complicating things and he needed to do this on his own.  That was the week he was down south with his parents, fucking his wife.  I can’t get it out of my head.  I can’t stop thinking about it.  I’m so angry I could explode.

I went and re-read emails that we were exchanging during that “no contact” period of time.  Almost every email started with “I hope you will forgive me for the way I behaved” or “I’m sorry that I hurt you and realize how much I love you, need you and want to be with you” or “I don’t want you to resent me for what I have to go through, but I’m doing this so that I can be stronger” or “I don’t want to resent you for doing something that I’m not ready to do” or “I’m sorry for . . . .”  Ironically, he wrote a multi-page email telling his wife how sorry he was for the “stupid mistake” he made by falling in love with me. 

What I know about MM and what I have since learned about him are as follows:

1.  He’s weak – he does what everyone tells him to do (except me, of course)

2.  He’s a pleaser – he wants everyone to like him and he can’t stand when anyone is angry with him

3.  He’s not as a smart as I thought or as well-rounded as I thought – but, on the upside he seems more amenable to changing than I thought he would be

4.  He’s weak

5.  He is insecure

6.  He is naive and childlike

7.  He doesn’t have a very good head for business, but can retain a tremendous amount of information

8.  He’s weak

9.  He’s cheap – but I wonder if that’s (a) because he was married and couldn’t spend his money on me or else she would find out; (b) has been unemployed since June; or (c) because that’s just what he is.

10.  He’s unimaginative in bed.  He’s a good lover but uninspiring.

11.  He’s a liar – aren’t all MM who have affairs, liars?  Don’t they have to live double lives in order to be with someone other than their wives, their families.  Why would I think that if he could lie to his w for all those years, that I’m the only one that he’s honest with.  What a big ego I must have to think that way.  How delusional I must be to think that way.  How addicted I must be to think that way.  I wonder if I were to get an injection of methadone, whether that would help the receptors in my brain behave more clearly.

“Why” is a crooked letter

October 26, 2010

You know how there are times when all you want to do is vent, scream at the top of your lungs, drink a bottle of wine, eat a pint of ice cream, sit in front of the TV but something inside you stops you from doing that.  And you do the responsible thing.  Get up, go to work, make dinner, do laundry, smile, exchange pleasantries.  And you feel like tearing your hair out.  Or ripping his face off.  But you don’t.

I have read a number of posts where the entries have talked about deleting MM’s old emails and how cathartic it was.  I have read them enviously.  I can’t do it.  I couldn’t block his phone and I can’t delete the old emails.  I like to re-read them.  Especially the ones that burn my butt.  I don’t know why.  I have most of our emails from all the pseudonym email addresses.  In the throws of the affair, I used to love to read them over.  The ones telling me how much he loves me, misses me, aches for me.  How I complete him, am his soul mate.  After d-day, and his bullshit no contact email, there were no emails for a while.  I called him towards the end of January to tell him how angry I was that he blocked me on facebook but refused to call him and refused to email him.  If he wanted to speak to me, he could call me.  If he wanted to email me, I would think about responding.   That ended our “no contact” but the pseudonym email addresses persisted.  I didn’t want to call him because I did not want to be portrayed as the crazy OW, and have some sort of restraining order against me.  That wasn’t me.  You don’t want to talk to me, I’m not calling.  That doesn’t mean I wont answer the phone. 

So today, I was looking through some emails.  My favorite is the “However comma I love my wife.”  But then, like a detective, I looked through some more.  The email from him, out of the blue, after we had talked that simply said “IMY”  (I miss you).  The date on that was February 13.  Was that before or after he went to down south with his W and kids to see his parents, while he was “trying to figure everything out” so “we shouldn’t talk that week.”  I found the emails where we talked about making plans to see each other.  Then a few intermittent emails, because he was sick.   Sunday night he writes to tell me that he got a lot of rest over the weekend, but now I know that he went to the Caribbean with his W for her birthday that weekend.  Must be why I got an email at 10:30 am and then not another one until 9:30 pm (when he got home.)   I was able to get angry all over again. 

I saw MM this weekend.  We were talking about funny names.  And he told me that when he was at a resort, he saw someone with a funny name tag.  When I asked him what resort, he said he didn’t want to tell me because I would get angry.  OH HOW RIGHT HE WAS!!!  I told him that I didn’t find anything funny about that time.  That I didn’t want him to raise that fucking weekend trip to me ever again.  That what was “funny” was that he has apologized to everyone but me and that I want a fucking apology.  That what I find “funny” is that he doesn’t ask about who I was dating, seeing, screwing, but that he should rest assured that I wasn’t sitting home, holding my blackberry waiting for it to buzz.  Because, “however comma” I was working on my future. 

Oh, I feel the blood boil, and the anger course through my veins.  Will it ever stop?  I told MM this past weekend, that I need to get it out of my system.  He treated me like I was disposable.  (In fact, I used those very words in an email to him.)  He wrote, in an email, that he was concerned that I shouldn’t hate him for the way he treated me during those months when he was “working on his marriage” and “going to marriage counseling” all the while telling his W that I am his soul mate but telling me that he is in MARRIAGE counseling!!!!  Why else does one go to marriage counseling except to work on their marriage.

Then I found the email where he told me that he told his W, and she agreed, that they should separate.  He was “physically” sick. 

I grew tired of looking at those emails and skipped to the ones that he has since sent me under his real name.  My favorite, as of late, is the 7 page email he sent to his W while in exile immediately after d-day.  I liked reading her email to him, attached to his string of apologies – telling her he loves her, wants her, needs her and their life and how after knowing each other for almost x-teen years he can’t imagine his life without her –  commanding him to write the email (which he obliged her with) and what it should say.  I liked how he referred to our love affair as a “stupid indiscretion” and something he would never do again.  How she yammered on about how he put his marriage at risk by getting involved with another woman, how he jeopardized her health and risked getting STDs, how she was hurt that he told me that he loved me “very much”.   What amazed me as I read (and of course, got angry) was that he never told her to go fuck herself.  He never told her the truth.  He never said to her “You’re right.  I was dishonest with you.  I should have left years ago, but I couldn’t.  Now I’ve met someone else, someone I love deeply, someone I believe is my soul mate.  I’m sorry I hurt YOU, however comma I’m leaving you.”  Why couldn’t he do that?  What was he thinking? 

Why?  Why?  Why?  Will I ever stop asking why?  Will I ever let it go?  Am I capable of letting it go?

When I was a little girl, and I would ask my parents “why”, they would oftentimes give me the non-answer:  “Y is a crooked letter.”  I never understood that it was a diversion, not an answer, never an answer.  Why is a crooked letter.

Where do I go?

May 22, 2010

I saw MM this past week 2x.  We had a great time.  We golfed, made love, made love, slept and then got to do it all over again the next day.  We had a wonderful business meeting on Wednesday evening and on Thursday I walked with MM to his W’s lawyer’s office where he picked up the complaint that his W filed against him for divorce.  Despite the conversations they’ve had about preserving whatever little assets they have, and being co-petitioners, she borrowed almost $8,000 from her mother and sued him for divorce.  Asking for the sun, the moon and the sky.  Of course, he’s freaked out.  About the demand (unrealistic and ungrantable as it may be) and the cost of an attorney and how litigation will take whatever little money they have.  He watched me go through a horrible, acrimonious divorce, but at a minimum, I could “afford” it.  (Even though it ate through my savings, for me, it was worth every penny.)  He’s freaked out. 

I spoke to him on Monday about seeing him this weekend – I offered to drive to his town.  He gave me a non-answer and on Friday, at 4:30 told me that if I still wanted to make the drive, he would like to see me from 3:00 pm on Saturday until 9:00 am on Sunday because his W was going to be spending the day with some of her new-found man-hating friends on Sunday.  I didn’t even answer him.  Until today.  When I answered, I told him – forget it.  I asked him to spend the weekend  with me; I was free from Friday until Monday morning and he said nothing until he found out his w had plans.  If he’s going to see me out of spite, I don’t want to see him.  If he’s going to be reactive to her, don’t see me.  I’m an affirmative choice, a first choice or else I’m no choice.  I asked him: What if you were the one with plans on Sunday and not her?  What if you were the one that made plans on mother’s day and not her?  What if you were the one that had a date last Friday and not her?  Are you going to spend the rest of your life babysitting for her?  Being shit on by her?  Am I going to take a back seat to her?  The answer to the last question is – NO.  Not in this fucking lifetime, my friend. 

He’s meeting with his lawyer on Tuesday.  I get that he’s anxious.  But for goodness sake, stop being a doormat.  The most interesting thing is that he lives in a state where you can get a no-fault divorce – a divorce on irreconcilable differences, irretrievable breakdown of the marriage.  Incredibly, his w sued him and alleged no fault and in the alternative pled “cruel and inhuman treatment” (the most common “fault” divorce grounds) and did not allege adultery.  I wonder why she did that.  My ex accused me of adultery with someone who he named (not MM) and someone who I wasn’t having even sleeping with. The most incredible thing is that I live in state where adultery is a ground for divorce AND a CRIME.  I’m surprised that she didn’t allege those grounds.  MM is hung up on the cruel and abusive treatment ground.  I told him that it is nothing and if that if anyone has grounds to plead that, it is him.  She hit him, she pushed him into the wall, she yelled at him and exiled him and he did nothing.  When I think about those times, it makes my blood boil.  When I think about what he did, what he put up with, that he said nothing, did nothing, it makes me angry.  It makes me so angry that I wonder sometimes, when I think of it, whether I’ll be able to get over it.  Whether I’ll be able to look at him and think better of him. 

It is that ultimate question: did he pick me or did he simply allow his w to decide.  In my heart I think it is the latter.  In my heart, as I think that it is the latter, it will not be good for a future relationship with him.  Because I don’t want to think, as I’ve written relentlessly, that he didn’t choose me.  I want to be chosen, not a fall back, not a second.  If his W hadn’t asked for the divorce, would he have?  If she hadn’t filed/sued him for divorce, what would he have done?  I know the answers but I don’t like thinking about them.  I’m good at self deceit but only for a limited period of time.

As I face the future, I’m concerned – about his neediness; about my lack of trust; about his remorse; about my anger; about his guilt; and finally about my intolerance and impatience.

Where do I go?  What do I do?

Where do I go?
Follow the river
Where do I go?
Follow the gulls

Where is the something?
Where is the someone?
That tells me why I live and die

Where do I go?
Follow the children
Where do I go?
Follow their smiles

Is there an answer
In their sweet faces?
That tells me why I live and die

Follow the wind song
Follow the thunder
Follow the neon in young lovers’ eyes

Down to the gutter
Up to the glitter
Into the city
Where the truth lies

Where do I go?
Follow my heartbeat
Where do I go?
Follow my hand

Where will they lead me?
And will I ever
Discover why I live and die?

Why do I live?
Why do I die?
Tell my why
Tell me where
Tell my why
Tell me why

Hair; Macdermot, Galt; Rado, James; Ragni, Gerome

Truth or Dare

May 15, 2010

I’m obsessed with MM’s W’s profile on the internet dating site.  (Anotherother1 are you out there laughing your ass off?)  I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help myself.  I’m sure it’s not surprising that I created a pseudonym (of a man), in her town, with amazing (a/k/a unrealistic) attributes, so I can stalk the hell out of her on-line.  What is wrong with me??? 

MM was traveling for business this week.  He asked me to go, but I couldn’t.  Also, I didn’t relish the idea of being in a hotel room without a business reason of my own, waiting for him to come to me, have sex with me and then go to work.  I’m not that kind of woman.  He was upset that when he got home his W had taken his kids somewhere and she knew that he wanted to spend time with them.  Not that it would have mattered to her, because she had “plans.”  He was speculating to me that she was going on another date with the same guy she went out with on Mother’s Day, rather than being with her kids.  I asked him why he cared.  Wasn’t she simply proving him right?  He didn’t love her, hadn’t loved her, hadn’t been with her since October 2008, and what she was doing was proving to him that they weren’t even friends, that they didn’t have, hadn’t had a good relationship or friendship and that she was moving on.  She is going to tackle dating as if it were a job.  She’s attractive.  She’s smart.  She has a good job.  She’s exactly like my ex husband – she’s a narcissist.  I hope she moves on.  I hope she finds someone else.  I hope . . .

This is what I know of her first hand, second-hand and third hand.

His wife is a bully – just like my ex.  She’s a social climber – like my ex.  She’s concerned about outward appearances and what everyone else thinks and says – like my ex.  If only she knew.  I had no expectation about having any feelings, other than friendship for my MM.  I told him that what I did on the road when we were traveling for business together, was no one’s business, that I was getting divorced.  We had a huge fight in town because I was kissing some guy in a bar.  MM still brings that up.  He made “rules of the road.”  Mostly about me not taking off with someone else when we were together.  I had a big family party on 6/2/07.  He and his W came to my town for it.  She kept eyeing me.  She’s very attractive.  Tall, thin, long hair, attractive.  After my friends spoke to her, they thought she was unattractive.  Her personality came through and my friends found her unattractive.  Women tend to equate beauty or having a good figure with being thin.  It took me most of life to find that “thin” is just that, thin.  It’s not a figure at all.  And not very attractive.  Maybe because I’ll never be thin.  When I weighed 92 pounds, I was thin, but didn’t look it. I always had curves and never wanted them.  It was invariably a conversation with my dance teachers when my scholarship would be reviewed – that I didn’t have the kind of figure that looked good in a unitard and that I should think about cosmetic surgery alternatives.  I would look better in a tutu (which I did).  I’ve seen pictures of MM’s W recently on her dating profile.  She likes to post pictures of herself in a bikini.  She looks like a 17-year-old boy.  She loves herself.  She’s just like my ex.

I had a great conversation yesterday with a friend of mine, a guy, that I’ve known since 1995 and he said to me that it’s good my MM doesn’t live to close, that we can see each other on weekends, and when the day comes that we are actually able to spend a significant amount of time together, I’m going to dump him.  I was horrified.  He said to me – you don’t love this guy.  He’s not for you.  He’s never been the one for you.  It has always been about your ego.  I tried to tell him that perhaps it was the part of me that I kept hidden and protected for fear that MM would never leave his W so I refused to make myself vulnerable.  He was having none of my bullshit rationalization.  Hmmmm, I wonder if he’s right.  My other friends say the same.  They think that he’s weak.  My friends think that I can do better.  My friends don’t think that he’s my equal.  My friends think that I will destroy him.  It’s difficult to think about that, because they know me very well.

The other advice I get, is that I should be super kind, great, sexy, loving, nurturing, supportive so that he will love being with me, want to be with me and will get over the end of his shitty marriage faster and easier.  Fuck him.  I know I should, and believe me I try.  But – I sometimes feel that I only have so much tolerance for his crap right now.  It has always been a sore spot that he could call me but I couldn’t call him.  He used to say that I could always call him and if he couldn’t speak he would let me know.  So, I never called because (a) I didn’t want him to ‘ignore’ my call on his bb or (b) tell me he couldn’t speak to me.  I let him know that it was at those times he was not my friend.  I don’t have such restrictions with my friends – they will take my call whenever I make it.

I spoke to MM this morning.  And he was great –  I love you, I miss you, I can’t wait to see you next week, did you get the email I sent with the home listings so we can have “our own place.”  Oh yeah, by the way – you know I was traveling this past week (Monday until Friday morning), you know how we spoke every day (morning and night) and texted and emailed the whole time, you know how we practically fell asleep speaking to each other on Thursday night?  Yes, I said while we were talking this Saturday at noon.  Well, funny story, he says.  I was with one of my female colleagues and we were talking about medical marijuana on Thursday, and lo and behold, she had some, we got high.  Isn’t that ironic.  I meant to tell you.  Oh, I said.  OK.  I’ve to go now.  (We spoke Thursday night. Nothing.  We spoke Friday morning.  Nothing.  We spoke between his flights on Friday.  Nothing.  We spoke when he landed on Friday.  Nothing.  We spoke Saturday morning.  Nothing.)  This afternoon we were texting.  I was in my car and thought it would be easier to call, so I did.  He picked up the phone in a hushed voice, told me he was working, his daughter had a friend over and he had to go.  Then he made up some bullshit story about his daughter.  Obviously his W was home.  I told him fine, I’ll let you go and bye.  He then said he didn’t have to get off the phone immediately, he was just telling me what was going on.  He must think I’m an idiot.  I wanted to get off the phone so I did.  Fine.  He called me back a few minutes after that.  I wasn’t “happy” to hear from him.  And then he sent me a text message telling me that I should know that he can call me whenever I want.  Right now – I don’t want to talk to him.  I’m not answering the text, looking at the photo he sent.  None of it.

He called me again.  He told me that he can’t tell me that he loves me in front of his kids.  I said I understand.  But – bullshit.  There wasn’t anyone in the room with him when I called.  I’m not a moron.  Was your w around?  Were you afraid she was going to hear you?  Am I forever going to be that secret?  But all I said was that I understood.  I told him that he made me feel bad for calling.  That it wasn’t the first time today that he made me feel bad when we spoke.  It wasn’t retrospective, it wasn’t about the time when he treated me like shit in December, January, February, March &  April, but it was today, May 15, 2010.  He said that he knew and he apologized.  All I said was – you made me feel bad for calling.  You made me feel bad that you told me about getting high with you woman colleague 3 days after it happened despite the fact that we spoke numerous times, texted & emailed.  He told me that he tells me everything.  Yes, I know he does.  Lucky fucking me.

Truth?  I’m worried that he wont want to be with me when he’s free of his shitty marriage. 

Truth 2:  He’s afraid that I’m not going to be there for him when it’s all said and done. 

You know who has a better chance of realizing their truth? 

Him.

It’s Done

April 24, 2010

I had the most wonderful nap this afternoon.  A couple of hours of complete nothingness, on the couch, in my jeans, under a super comfy blanket.  No barking dog, no kids and this great breeze blowing in from the window.  I’m supposed to go bowling with my best boy/girlfriend tonight at a funky bowling alley in town.  You know the kind that they don’t let anyone under 21 in after 7:00 pm on Saturday night.  I was calling him cause I was running late and he was calling me to tell me he was running late.  He’s awesome.

Just as I was coming more fully awake, I heard the “bling” of my blackberry, which meant I was getting a text.   This is the exchange:

MM:  Where are you?????  I want to be with be with you.  I want to grow old with you.

Me:  I was napping.  Just turned on my computer.  Really?  What’s going on? I want to be with you too.
I love you.  I’m supposed to go bowling tonight with a friend.

MM:  W and I agreed to get divorced. We’re kinda on the same wavelength. We’re @ dinner now talking about details. Kids are @ movie night.  I really want to see you. I miss you and I am excited to be with you in front of the world (not that it’s anyone else’s business). Do u think u might be able to see me this week?

I’ll believe it when I see it.  My whole week has been surreal.  This just seems like a moment of pure intoxication and that I’ll wake up tomorrow, sober, and it will not have happened; it will have been a dream.  So, I needed to write it down.

I’m in shock.  The wounds are many and very deep.   It was a great nap and I can’t shake the fatigue from my head.

I’m comfortably numb.

“Gullible” is not in the dictionary

April 19, 2010

I must be the most naive person in the world to believe the pack of lies that come out of his mouth.

I love you.

I miss you.

I want to be with you.

I want to grow old with you.

I’m sorry.

I don’t want to hurt you.

You mean everything to me.

You are my soul mate.

It has been more than 4 months since we made love.  It has been more than 4 months since our affair was discovered by his w.   We have seen each other once; talked a number of times, emailed, instant messaged, texted.  And yet?  Nothing.  I’m still in the same place today as I was in December 2009.  That’s not progress.  That’s stupidity.

And I can rationalize this like it’s no one’s business.  Like a perfect OW, I think:

Our relationship is different. 

He wants to be with me, but is concerned with his children.  I understand.

He loves me, but is concerned about finances.

He wants us to grow old together, but first he needs to do the right thing by everyone.

Did you know, that the world “gullible” isn’t in the dictionary. 

Actually, the word gullible, synonymous with fool, idiot, self-deceiver is in the dictionary with a picture of me for clarification. 

As I move through the crap that my life has become, I’m starting to get more and more disenchanted.  I’m finding it more difficult to put one foot in front of the other when it comes to thinking that MM is going to be with me.  Not now.  Not ever.  And what am I doing by holding on?  Who am I benefiting by pretending that he will?  Certainly not me.  We don’t see each other, we speak infrequently and what I’m beginning to see is that he gets strength from me to enable himself to make it through his days, at home, with his wife.  Not me.  As my father would say, I feel like I have one foot out the door and another on a banana peel.  I just need that final push.

MM’s w, kids and mother in law went away this week.  He didn’t go with them.  He has limited vacation time at his new job and since they all went to see his parents in February (oh yeah, that was one of the weeks where he thought that we shouldn’t speak because he needed to get it together without me), he only has one more week left of vacation.  I’m sure he would like to save that when his parents come up north this summer and take them all away for a few days here and there – so he can parcel out his time.  We had talked about getting together.  He asked me to come and see him.  I said no.  I’m not a secret.  Tell your w that we’re going to see each other and then I’ll come.  Of course he wouldn’t do that.  I’m sad that I’m not going.  I’m sad that he’s willing to let me walk away.  Despite the words that come out of his mouth, actions speak louder than words.  And there has been no action.  I know that I’m going to have to do it.  But it’s so damn hard.

Ironically, I’m dating someone.  He’s very nice.  He’s single – or in the process of getting divorced.  Has a kid, a job, is geographically desireable.  He’s a decent kisser, but . . . Isn’t there always a but.  But he’s not MM.  The sparks aren’t there.  That feeling you get in your gut that pulls you closer and closer to another person, just isn’t there.  He’s nice enough.  I could date him, use him, sleep with him, whatever, but it feels like I’m going through the motions.  Like I’m going out with him, just to bide time.  Until . . . Until what?? MM makes a decision to be or not to be.  Whether his w makes the decision to ignore the past, try to move on with her marriage or kick him out?  I’ve never imagined myself to be someone so helpless and pathetic.  And yet, here I am.  As I stand before you, I have abdicated control of my life to a married man.  As I look in the mirror, I recognize someone who is waiting for others to make decisions about my life, instead of ME deciding what to do about my life.  She doesn’t look familiar to me, although she’s starting to become a regular in my life.

I hang on every word.  I hang on the buzz of my blackberry, the chime of my computer letting me know that MM has emailed, texted, telling me that he wants to be with me, loves me and is going to be my knight in shining armour.  WOW.  Doesn’t that look stupid and foolish in black and white.  I wonder at this point, who’s fooling who.

Denial Ain’t just a river in Egypt

April 17, 2010

Denial.  A river in Egypt.  Or me.

I’ve been emailing and speaking with my MM.  Well, not exactly speaking but instant messaging.  We spoke about a week ago for the first time in a while.  It’s always so great to hear his voice.  He told me that he’s madly, head over heels in love me and that we’ll get through this.

Queen of Denial.  Cleopatra.  No, Me.

He told me that his w was writing an a marriage board and he found and read her posts.  I asked him how he found her and he told me.  Being the devious, stalking OW, I searched and found the posts too.  I read them, re-read them, re-re-read them.  I’m obsessed with reading them.  They are amazing.  I’ve thought about it a million times – what is she thinking; what is she doing with him; why is she getting into bed with him every night; why does she want to take him back.  On the flip side I’ve wondered about what my MM has told his w about me – then and what he says about me now.

In the posts his w talks about his obsession with happiness, and that the OW (me) makes her husband happy and that she wants to stomp on his throat; that getting into bed with him, sickens her; that she can’t go through her life married to this self-absorbed jackass.  She wrote about the “However comma” email that he sent me and admitted that she wrote/they wrote it together as part of this “program” but that the OW disregarded it;  that her H says the OW is his soul mate; that she wants to divorce him but they can’t afford it.  She says that the affair didn’t end the way it was supposed to but petered out until we stopped talking, all the time he was tormenting her about it and she would find him lying.  And then finally she says in the posts that we don’t speak.  That we don’t have any contact except when I call him, on occasion for work.  That’s unbelievable.  Because that’s a lie.  He emails me, he texts me, he calls me.  He tells me loves me, that he wants to be with me, that he aches for me.  So when we next spoke, I asked him about his professed honesty – that he’s honest with me, that he tells me everything BUT why doesn’t he tell his W anything?  He wants to be honest, but not with her.  Because it will make a bad situations worse, was how he answered me.  Worse for who?  And I made him tell me: his W, her mother, his parents.  And again, there was no regard for me.  Honest, once again, didn’t include me.  Make a bad situation worse for the protection of his W, but not for me. 

His w and kids are going on vacation next week without him.  He’s asked me to come to his town to see him.  I asked him where he thought I was going to stay and he said that he thought we could stay in a hotel.  I told him that I wasn’t a whore.  If he wanted to be with me, we could stay at his home.  If he wants to be with me, be with me, stop hiding me and making me a secret.  Hold my hand in public.  Tell me you love me publically.  Be with me or don’t be with me. 

I have tried to be the good OW, the patient OW, the one that he wants to be with and yet, I can’t hold my tongue.  The  email I sent this morning is, I’m hoping the last one.  I need to move on.  I can’t live in the state of limbo anymore. 

I wrote:

  • I don’t know why you continue to beat yourself up.  I think you know what you want but are afraid to act.  I think that we all have a million excuses and rationalizations but in the end, that’s what they are.  You say you can’t imagine not having your children, but where are they going?  You say you can’t imagine not being with your son when he’s an adolescent – where are you going?  I have a friend of mine who is divorced and has joint custody and in the past 6 months as her son has turned 16, he spends more than 75% of his time with his father.  Not to mention that as they get older, it is less about what you want and more about what they want – whose house they’re sleeping over at, what party they are going to – has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them and your goal as a parent is to shove them out the door, to be with their friends, their peers, give them wings to fly.  I feel most like a failure when my kids are home, without plans.  You have spent the past months focusing all of your energy on your kids – every single waking second.  It’s not healthy for any of you to do that.  It’s not all about the kids.  Worse – is when they will start to understand that and then feel responsible for your happiness.  In context – my younger daughter was 8 when my ex and I separated. She was elected to student council this year; she has a “boyfriend” and is an A student.
     
    I shared these thoughts with a friend of mine about being in love and being vulnerable:
    “Have you ever been so in love with someone that when it ended you thought you couldn’t breathe?  That you couldn’t imagine what would happen the next day without him?  That your insides were ripped open and you didn’t know how to reassemble them.  That when you were with that person, time stood still – literally – and the next thing you know, it was time to leave.  That someone could look at you and make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world, the smartest, most amazing, most confident, beautiful (inside and out) person; that what they saw in you was better than what you saw in yourself.  To love like that, be in a relationship like that – that’s being vulnerable.  That’s a gift.  Do you think that you get that more than once in a lifetime?  Not too easy to walk away from that.  And that has nothing to do with money, kids, a mortgage, a job.  Isn’t that what we look for?  That ache and desire to be with that one person who, corny as it sounds, completes you.  Who makes you feel when you look at them, that that is where you’re supposed to be, where you want to be.  Where you belong?
     
    My favorite expression is that life is not like a game of a jacks.  You don’t get to the end and then get a do-over.  You have one life with lots of chances.  Every day you get to start over and do what you want.  But people get bogged down with the “stuff” of life – money, kids, jobs, etc.  I think that’s just the biggest cop-out ever.  I don’t believe that things are mutually exclusive.  If the fire is hot, you move your hand away from the stove, you don’t leave it there to burn.”
     
    That’s what I felt we had (in fact that’s what I was describing).  That’s what I want in my life.  I don’t believe this nonsense of addiction, bad moral character.  I don’t think that people who have affairs are bad.  Good people have affairs.  They may do things that are hurtful – but to what end?  To finding some happiness in the finite time we have.  I don’t believe it is wrong to look for happiness.  I think it is a sin and a crime to walk away from it. 
     
    I think, MM, that you are a lot like me, but your fear is overwhelming to you.  You are paralyzed by your indecision and hope that someone else will make the decision for you.  If you were to tell your wife we were speaking and saw each other and wanted to see each other, she would make the decision for you.  I want to see you this week.  I blocked out time to come to MA to see you, too.  It is purgatory and hell.  “You know I want to grow old with you, don’t you” are words that I can’t get out of my head. 
     
    You’ve asked me if we were to be together, would we always feel this way about each other.  Without a crystal ball, no one knows that answer.  But I do know that in the time we’ve been together, I’ve loved you more; our love making got better despite the fact that I thought it couldn’t and the more time we spent together, the more I wanted to be with you.  I missed you while standing on the sidewalk waving goodbye, when I hung up the phone, when we disconnected from skyping.  The pull I feel towards you is both emotional and physical.  I am attracted to your mind, your heart, your body, your soul.
     
    I love you.  I miss you.  I ache for you.  I too, want to grow old with you, don’t you know.  I think that you’re my soul mate, my destiny, where my life lead me and that we were meant to be.

I’m a master manipulator.  And I hate to lose.

But I’m learning that I’m crazy.  As hard as I try to move on and let go, I can’t seem to do it.  I’ve gone to the social networking sites and have tried to block him.  But the shred of hope that he might choose me, prevented me from doing it.  I was speaking to a dear friend yesterday and said just that.  What’s the worse thing that could happen?  I will have moved on, closed the door and THEN, he will decide he wants to be with me.  How sad.  And it hit me!  Not sad . . . FOR ME because I will have moved on.  Sad for him.  Too late for him.

As they say:

Great love demands great sacrifices.
The love of Antony and Cleopatra epitomize that love is another name for sacrifice

Emails

March 27, 2010

MM:  Had a bad dream. You and the guy from work were drinking and one thing led to another and you were telling me how great it was.

Me:  I’m sorry you had a bad dream. It didn’t happen. You can imagine, that I have a million things to say. Where did you sleep last night? Are you wearing your wedding band? Why? You tell me things and then what? Why can’t you email me more than once? Why can’t you call me? Why can’t you friend me on Facebook? Why can’t you see me? Why, why, why. Because I’m the secret, I’m the villain. Because everyone else is more important, everyone else’s feelings are more important. I have to say that it feels pretty shitty on this end.

MM:  You’re not a secret anymore, and you’re definitely not a villain. I’m sorry that things are the way they are. I miss you as much as you miss me. I am dealing with my situation, which includes my kids, and the fact that I not only have no money, but my house is $xxxk underwater. All in all it’s really shitty. And I miss you.

Me:  Bullshit. You have a million excuses. Where are you sleeping? Why? Are you wearing your wedding band?? Why? Don’t tell me that has anything to do with money or the kids. You told me your therapist told you to sleep in the guest room or in the basement. Many people who separate and get divorced to exactly that. Are you? You don’t even answer me and your silence is deafening. It’s more than answer enough. I’m a secret. You email me from a faux email address; you don’t call me; you don’t see me. You take your wife to Mexico. you don’t friend me on facebook.  We don’t see each other. What am I then, if not a secret? I, in the present, am still a secret. Did you tell your wife that you drove to another State to see me? Did you tell her that you took off your wedding band? Did you tell her that you held me, looked into my eyes, told me that you love me, that you want to be with me, that I’m your soulmate? That you’re sorry you hurt me? That you continue to hurt me? The excuses are never ending. Your kids don’t care if you sleep in the basement. Your kids don’t care if you wear your wedding band. Your kids don’t care if you speak to me. Your kids don’t care if you email me from your gmail address. Your kids don’t care if you see me. Your kids don’t care as long as you love them. You know who cares?  Your wife.  Your mother.  Your father.  You.  Actions speak louder than words. We all have issues to deal with. That’s just life.

MM:  My wedding band is off. I am sleeping in my bed for the reasons I told you. I am going at my speed. I love you and think we are meant to be. I would like this to not be because of you (as you also want). I have to go at my own speed. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. I miss you and do want to see you, but
this has to be at my speed and I have to do it honestly. BTW – Listen to My Sacrifice by Creed.
 
Me:  You miss me and want to see me but . . .
Always a but.  You can see and speak to anyone as long as it’s not me. “Honestly”?  Ok, Mr. Pseudonym.  If you say so.
 
MM:  PS Why would I tell my wife about that? Did you tell your ex-husband you were in love with someone in Oct 2007?  And you don’t know what my kids are affected by – can’t you trust me to make that determination? This is
REALLY hard stuff and I am beaten down by it. I have to do it my way. I’m not asking you to do anything that you don’t want to do. I’m sorry.
 
Me:  Why would you tell your wife that you saw me?  Hmmmm, I don’t know.  Maybe because you wrote in the other email that I’m not a secret.  Yes, I am.  Why didn’t I tell my ex husband in October 2007?  Because you wanted it to be a secret.  What is it that you’re hoping to accomplish by not telling her?  Saving your marriage?  Please, be honest with me for once.  You’re right.  I don’t get any of what it is you’re doing.  I don’t understand how you can tell your wife last Friday, on your way to a meeting, that you want to separate, have her say OK (which to you “speaks volumes”) and then . . . what?  Nothing?  Back to status quo?  And what about that  “spoke volumes”?
 
As to what your kids will or will not be affected by:  I find it difficult to imagine the impact of you emailing me from your gmail account, MM, instead of your pseudonym, on your kids.  Or if you speak to me.  Or see me.  But that’s obviously for you to decide.
You’re right.  You have to do it your way.  You know what’s great about all of it, is that you will simply force everyone else to make the decisions for you.  It is your modus operandi.  Your wife will either divorce you and take that decision from you, or I will disappear and make that decision for you.  Your threshold for pain is incredibly high.  Unfortunately mine is not.
 
Inaction is as much a decision as action.
 
You miss me and want to see me but. . . It is certainly easy for you not to.  You don’t.  You aren’t.  We aren’t seeing each other, have no plans to see each other. It pains me and isn’t easy for me.  At all.
 
And then finally:
 
Me:  Why did you want me to listen to that song, My Sacrifice, by Creed?
 
Do you think that this is easy for me?  Do you think that this is where I thought I would be a year ago?  Six months ago?  3 1/2 months ago?  I can’t breathe when I think about not having you in my life.  But maybe that’s just a temporary feeling.  They say that time heals all wounds.  Maybe I just need time and distance from you to heal.  Interestingly, it is not even of my own doing.  You’ve set it up so that we don’t see each other and don’t speak.  Whatever it is that you’re doing, in your own time, has nothing to do with me.  You want to see me.  When?  You want to speak with me.  When?  I am, once again, an enabler for you.  You want to email me, instant message me, ask me for advice, help, support — for what?  To do what?  To go where?  What’s your goal?  Your end game?
 
I went from seeing you multiple days a week, speaking to you for hours a day, being the most important person in my life to nothing.  To seeing you for 5 hours 9 days ago.  And feeling like my insides have been ripped out of my body.  You tell me how I’m supposed to deal with that?  What am I supposed to do?
I love you and miss you.
 
So pathetic.  So sad.  Now I have to start all over again.  Back to December 2009.  Back to not eating, not sleeping and drinking too much.  Back to crying, feeling sorry for myself.  How long will it take this time to heal?  Will I ever heal?  How do I move past this without feeling like a failure over and over and over again. 
 
I seem to relate music to my life and situations and here’s another.  The chorus was burning in my brain “back to life, back to reality” and when I listened to it this evening, couldn’t believe how apropos the lyrics were.
 
Soul II Soul wrote:
Back to life, back to reality
Back to the here and now
Show me how, decide what you want from me
Tell me may be
I could be there for you
However do you want me,
However do you need me

Back to life, back to the present time,
Back from a fantasy
Yeah, tell me now, take the iniative
I’ll leave it in your hands until you’re ready

I live at the top of the block,
No more room for trouble or fuss
Need a change, a positive change look
Look it’s me writing on the wall
Back to life, back to the day we have
Let’s end this foolish game
Hear me out don’t let me waste away
Make up your mind so
I know where I stand