Posts Tagged ‘stalk’

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? 



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

Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody

March 12, 2010

I think that blogging has been incredibly therapeutic.  I haven’t told my shrink though.  I’ve told her that I’ve been journaling.  And I haven’t told MM either.  I tell him that I journal and find that sometimes when I’m writing, things become clearer once I see them on paper.  Actually, often times it is the comments that make things clearer.  Or are like a cyber smack in the head.  🙂

MM and I have been emailing and talking.  I feel dirty and ashamed of that fact.  Yet what I keep telling him is to let me go.  Leave me alone.  I understand that he is unhappy and that I opened up his eyes.  But I’m not going to hold his hand and help him walk across the lion’s den right now.  He has to figure out what he wants in his life, where he wants to be in his life and what’s important in his life — without regard to me.  No matter what happens between me and him – whether we never see each other again, become friends, lovers or more, I don’t want him to look at me, think of me with resentment.  And I don’t want to have those feelings for him.  To be honest, I would be happy with any feeling other than anger at this point.  But resentment would be toxic.  No matter what.

So the conversations that we’ve had have been okay for me.  The one thing I’ve repeatedly asked is what is it exactly, that he’s trying to work out.  Does he want to save his marriage, because frankly, his marriage is dead.  Deader than dead.  Dead.  Deader.  Deadest.  Yup.  Deadest.  I guess he could stay where he is, in his wife’s bed, in his jointly mortgaged home, with his jointly leased cars and joint bank accounts until the children are . . . teenagers, out of high school, graduating from college, married, have children . . . And then what happens?  What happens during?  None of it is really my problem.  And yet I seem to think that I should have some concern, some investment in the outcome.  How foolish of me.  It’s not my life.  I’m divorced after almost 19 years of marriage; I’m a single mother with 2 kids.  I’m a full time worker.  I made the decisions that were right for me, my kids, my life.  MM has to make the decisions that are right for him.  Please, I’ve begged of him, let me go.  Stop calling me.  Stop emailing me.  Stop telling me that you’re sorry.  Stop telling me you miss you.  Stop telling me that you love me.  Stop asking me what I want.  Stop.  Stop.  STOP!!!

I told MM that was I was going to block his phone number.  But I haven’t done it.  I told him I was going to block his email.  I haven’t done that either.  He asked me not to.  So like a fool, I didn’t.  What the hell is wrong with me that I can’t do it.  My girlfriend referred to him today as my fix.  Yes, I know that.  I understand that, and yet, time and time again I forget.  As if I could.

I would like to meet someone.  I had a date scheduled for tonight.  I broke it.  The guy just annoys me.  I’m sure that he’s nice, but I don’t want to go out with him.  I don’t want to date him.  I saw his picture and there’s not enough alcohol in the world to make this guy more appealing.  I would rather put on a movie, pour a glass of wine and go to sleep.  Sounds like heaven.  I would like to turn my brain off for a few hours – not think about work, money, bills, kids’ school work, MM or the fact that I’m alone.  I’m not lonely.  I’m just alone.  The thing that I think of most, is that right now, I don’t mind being alone.  Given a choice of going out on a date tonight and making small talk with someone I could care less about, watching a movie with a girlfriend or spending the evening in a quiet home (without my kids), by myself – I picked door number 3.  How much time do I have to do that?  Should I really be thinking that MM is the guy for me because otherwise I could end up alone?  I spent the relationship with MM being alone anyway.  So, what’s the difference.  I felt there was a period of time that I could have been content, in my affair, for years to come.  I never asked him to leave his wife for me; I like having my freedom and being only accountable to me and my children.  Meeting someone local, to spend weekends, holidays, birthdays with, would be nice and I didn’t see that as an impediment to my affair.  MM never liked me to talk about other men, dating, being physical with someone else.  In fact, he used to ask me if I told people that I had a boyfriend, that I was in love with someone.  Are you fucking kidding me??!?!?!  Did he tell his wife that he had a girlfriend and was in love with someone else?  We all know the answer to that question.  And since he was so weird about it, I felt that it was best not to talk about it.  Where I went when I wasn’t with him, wasn’t his business.  Who I was with, when I wasn’t with him, wasn’t his business.  He was with his wife.  And that wasn’t any of my business.

I would like to meet someone someday.  I would like to be with someone someday.  Someone who loves me, respects me, wants me – mind and in body.  I would like to be with someone someday that I think is smarter than me, funny, who I respect and who I dig – both in spirit and in body.  I chewed on thinking that was MM.  But the “married” part got in the way.  Fantasy is great until you put a pin in your bubble and burst it.  How much of what I felt was fantasy and how much reality.  How much of what he felt was fantasy and how much reality.  I don’t know the answer to either question.  What I do know, without a doubt, without hesitation, is that what we had is over.  It is no more.  It can never be that again.  It would have to be different.  How do you do that.  Do I want to do that.  Is this the person do I want to do that with.  Funny how I ask these questions as if the answer were mine, when it’s not.

Just keep walkin’.

Hello, my name is Susan and I’m an addict.

March 5, 2010

I re-read my last post and thought that the author (me) saw some really wonderful, insightful things and might actually be able to get her shit together.  But, as all of you know, easier said than done.  I don’t want to talk to my MM, but I do.  I don’t want to hear from my MM.  But I do.  I don’t want any contact from my MM.  But I do.  And that makes me so angry with myself.  I want to move on but seem to get sucked right back in.  Time and time again. 

I was in my MM’s home town this past week for 2 days, on business.  We had talked last week about getting together.  Initially I wasn’t even going to tell him that I was going to be there.  And then, before I knew it, I agreed to meet him for lunch before my flight home.  He asked to see me both days, but I didn’t think that was possible.  And not something that I thought would be so healthy for me.  Everyone counseled me against seeing him.  But I know better than everyone, anyway, so we agreed to meet.  Even better, he was going to schedule a business meeting for me with his CEO.  I woke in the morning, a bit apprehensive, and a bit excited.  I emailed him that I would be on the 10:10 train.  30 seconds later my phone rang – it was him.  His W had found a way to track my emails to his work computer or visa versa and he had cancelled the meeting.  I flipped out!  Cancelled the meeting!!!!!  How did this happen?!?!  Do I have an “I’m a stupid moron” sign on my forehead?!?!?!  He told me that when his W confronted him about the emails, in his most sniveling, spineless way, he asked her if she wanted him to cancel the meeting.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!  Why didn’t you say to her:  “How DARE you monitor my work computer?  How DARE you put me under house arrest?  How DARE you treat me as a prisoner?”  But he whimpered and cancelled the meeting.  He told me that he still wanted to see me.  Fuck you.  In your dreams.  I’m still the “dirty little secret.”  We spoke for 2 hours.  Are you going to tell your wife?  She’s going to get the cell phone bill.  What are you going to tell her?  Your phone was off the hook?  Yes, I’ll tell her.  As always, that remains to be seen.

What I find most difficult to come to terms with at this point is that he still lives in the same house, under the same roof and gets into the same bed as his W every day.  Why?  I told him that I didn’t really know if I could take this anymore; that I just don’t think that it is healthy for me.  I wont tell him what to do.  Everyone else tells him what to do. I wouldn’t take him if he moved out now anyway.  I can’t believe how long it’s been seen we’ve seen each other – since December 4, 2009 – 3 months and 1 day.  Yet he sees his W every day.  Interesting. 

The thoughts that swirl around in my head are – he can see everyone but me, so I must not matter.  And he responds:  You’re everything.  You’re the reason for all of this.  You opened up my eyes; you’re an amazing person; I love you; I want to be with you.  You’re all that anyone talks about, thinks about.  You’re the elephant in the room – all the time.

And then I think – the decision to be together or not, is not his alone to make.  What I told him today, that I understand the least, is that I don’t know what is left for him to figure out.  Do you want to save your marriage?  Because your marriage is dead.  Maybe critical life support with intermittent flat lines, but dead enough.  Do you want to save it?  Do you?  Is that what you’re figuring out?  I’m not going to sit on the side lines waiting for that answer.  I can’t bear the thought of once again, not being chosen.  I think it would be the end of me.  Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe I can look back to what I thought in December – about not being chosen – and feel that pain all over again, the kick in the pants that I need to move on and get out of here.  The house is on fire for heaven’s sake!!!!!  Get out!!!!!  There’s nothing left to take with you and whatever there was, you don’t need it.  Get the hell out of there!  Save yourself before it’s too late. 

Is it too late?  How do you know?  What would I do with him in my life again?  What would I do without him in my life ever again?  I don’t know how anyone’s mind can comprehend “forever.”  It makes my heart race, anxiously.  Maybe that’s why I like the idea of MM and married men, generally.  The relationships are finite.  They have a beginning, middle and end.  I like seeing the end.  I have an endless supply of MM these days (not that I’m sleeping with, but flirting with) and what I like to do, is talk about their wives, their kids and their lives that don’t include me.  And I like to talk about the men that I’m dating, who are single.  It puts a brick wall up between us and we can call it what it is.  Nothing.  Is that what I had with my MM?  Nothing.  If he were with me, would I trust him to be with me and only me?  Or is it nothing?  Rien.  Nada.  Zero.  Zip.

While he talks about me, loving me, wanting to be with me it is intoxicating to think about it, to imagine what that could be like.  I can’t even bring the images fully into my mind without questioning them.  I’ve felt this way forever with him.  I wonder if it’s him or me.  I don’t know anymore.  Is it that I never allowed myself to imagine it since it wasn’t possible or is it that I never imagined it because of my feelings for him.  Did I limit those feelings because I knew there was a beginning, middle and end to the affair or because I just didn’t feel that way about him.  Regardless, I told him on the phone this afternoon, that I would like to see him.  Doesn’t he want to see me?  All the time, he answered.  I could feel my heart beating.  He told me his work travel schedule and perhaps we could meet here, there, somewhere.  I stopped myself and told him, no.  I wouldn’t do that.  If he wanted to see me, come to my town and see me. 

The cold honest truth:  I want to see him.  I would like to be with him.  I can smell it, feel it, taste it.  I can feel my blood start to pump imagining it.  You know why?  Cause I’m a junkie, that’s why. 

“Hello, my name is Susan and I’m an addict.” 

“Hello Susan.”

Eleanor Roosevelt

February 1, 2010

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.  Eleanor Roosevelt.

Happiness is not a goal; it is a by-product.  Eleanor Roosevelt

We are afraid to care too much for fear that other person does not care at all.  Eleanor Roosevelt.

In all our contacts it is probably the sense of being really needed and wanted which gives us the greatest satisfaction and creates the most lasting bond.  Eleanor Roosevelt

Eleanor Roosevelt was an amazing woman.  Her husband had an affair.  While she said she could forgive, she also said she had the memory of an elephant and could never forget.  She “offered” to divorce her husband so he could be free to marry his lover, but his lover wouldn’t marry a divorced man with 5 children.  Eleanor’s husband was told by everyone to give up the affair – it would destroy him, his family, his reputation.  She moved out of the family residence but stayed on the estate in a separate home.  He resumed his affair.  When her husband’s health seriously declined, he asked Eleanor to move back in with him.  She refused.  It is purported that his lover was with him the day he died.

Not such a surprise when you read the words that she is credited with uttering.  They could also have been the words of her husband’s lover.

I have been struggling with the feelings of inferiority (“why didn’t he chose me”) and finding happiness as a by-product of my actions for the past several weeks.  I don’t know why this time has been so difficult, yet it has.  I have had times of tremendous growth and am surprised at my set backs.

I spoke to my MM last week.  The initial call was to simply let him know that his actions were causing me professional embarrassment.  While painful, I was living with his personal decision to cut me out of his life, but on a business level I wouldn’t accept that.  The conversation ended up becoming more personal, apologetic and I blogged about it.  I had lunch with one of my best friends the following day and I told her about the conversation.  Specifically, that it ended with him not telling me not to call.  She laid it out for me in clear English.  She said:  Don’t call.  He’s living his life under a microscope and it wouldn’t be beyond his W to trace his calls, his emails, even at work, and hurt you professionally, get a restraining order against you and regardless, the truth, in black and white is that he relayed the information to you that he was to tell you not to contact him.  He can, in a clear conscience say that he didn’t call you, told you what he was supposed to tell you and you start to appear like the crazy, stalker exOW. 

 AHA!!!  I’ve read blogs where the W talks about the exOW continuing to stalk the xMM and I’ve thought to myself how pathetic that is.  And now – that could be me!  Or how I could be portrayed.  I wasn’t going to let that happen.  I was resolute.  If my xMM wants to speak to me he can call me.  I didn’t feel the need to speak to him again.  While I wanted to, the burning need was abating.

The next day he called me.  We spoke.  It really felt great.  And I was angry at myself for enjoying the conversation.  He called again the following day.  He told me that he couldn’t live with an edict forcing me completely out of his life.  I was happy to hear that.  Damn it!  Damn him!  I was moving him out of my life.  I was living my life without him.  The conversations appeared honest.  He told me that everything was about being honest now.  Everything that is, except speaking to me.  If his w knew that he was talking to me, his bags would be packed and waiting for him on the street.  Not very honest, then.  I told him that perhaps he should think about telling her or at least discuss it with his therapist.  We spoke on Friday.  He had to hang up because he had marriage counseling.  Ridiculous.  He would call me on Monday.  I haven’t heard from him.  Yet.  I’ve been wondering if I will hear from him.  Do I want to hear from him?  I’m not so sure anymore.  Of course, like all good junkies, I want to hear from him.  But that’s not the healthy part speaking.  That’s the needle talking.  It hurts to speak with him – not so much because of what I want, going forward, but because of what it makes relive.  I don’t like that time.  I want to get as much distance from “then” as possible and every time I speak to him, the clock resets itself.  And now – it’s been 3 days since I spoke with my xMM. 

I hope that he will call.  I hope that he wont call.  I want to talk to him and find out what’s going on.  I don’t care what he’s doing. 

I went on a date this past Saturday with a lovely man.  Someone I’ve know, but not well, for over 20 years.  He’s divorced, has 2 children, but lives far away.  He came to see me.  It was awkward at first, but eventually, we found that we had a lot to say to each other.  He’s a little odd, but then again . . . people who live in glass houses . . .  🙂  He flew home yesterday afternoon and sent me the loveliest emails.  One said that he was listening to a song that made him think of me and he wrote “I have so much that I want to learn with you.  Let me.”  “If I make reservations for a ski getaway, would you come?”  The emails were so sweet, so kind — they gave me the sense of being truly wanted.  Yet, why am I disappointed, that today, I haven’t heard from MM?  It’s that sinking feeling that I hoped and am being shown why I shouldn’t have.  I gave MM consent to make me feel inferior.  And so, I do.  I no longer give that consent. 

Several years ago, my exH and I took our daughters to Hyde Park – the childhood home of Eleanor Roosevelt’s husband and where they lived as a married and then separated couple.  I bought a magnet that I taped to my refrigerator (since it is stainless steel magnets don’t stick).  I didn’t put it up until after my xH moved out.  I see it every day yet I don’t always really “see” it.  It reads:

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face… we must do that which we think we cannot.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can . . . .

To be or not to Be. That is the Question.

January 27, 2010

I’m not an inspiration today although I feel surprisingly better than I have in a long while.

I spoke to my MM yesterday and it was amazing – I needed to tell him some things and it felt liberating. Surprisingly, I didn’t expect to make the call, wasn’t going to call (except maybe to stalk him – you know, dial, hear his voice on the answering machine and then hang up.  Sophomoric, I know, but no different than hunting him down on line to see what he’s doing.)   I told him that I wished he were in pain and was glad that he was unhappy now. I told him that he was embarrassing me personally and professionally by “unfriending” “disconnecting” me from on-line networking sites and by interrogating work/business people and my friends about me. That what I felt more than anything is that if he were standing in front of me, I would slap him and it would feel good. I don’t think that I’ve ever slapped anyone in my life, but it seemed so fitting. I could feel my hand do it – reach out from the side of my body and strike him across the face and the image was cathartic.

He told me plenty — of how shitty his life has been, and not in a whiney, pleading way (shockingly) – he too remembers every word of the last email, text, conversation that we had. I told him that it made me happy to hear that things were shitty for him. Maybe I’m a bitch, but I had to say it. I wanted to say it and more than anything, I needed to say it. 

Then he tells me that he and his W are in counseling together and where he really wants to be is individual therapy because he can’t say anything meaningful in couples counseling.  Because what he needs to say and what he knows are that once the words are out, you can’t get them back again.  I don’t think that he wants to hurt her unnecessarily, but the therapy is not about a couple, but about him. 

He told me that he’s been sending me messages, discreetly, through other people, but I’ve gotten nothing. Hmmm, I wonder if the messengers he selected dislike him, don’t trust him or if it’s me. He told me that the email I sent him hurt him horribly.  That I know him and to say that what he said to me over the years was lies, wasn’t anything that I could have really believed.  That it hurt him that I thought he could discard me like garbage.  That when he spoke to me on the phone in front of his wife and told me that it was over and he could never see me again, he died inside.  Yet he did say that, didn’t he?  He didn’t tell his wife that it was over and he couldn’t be with her anymore.  He said it to me.  He asked me whether or not I thought the email that he sent me was written for me or for someone else, by someone else.  I told him it was hurtful – HOWEVER COMMA!!!!!  Fuck you comma for telling me I hurt your feelings period  Fuck you comma for sending me that email and not calling me and telling me what was going on period  Fuck you period

He asked me if I thought that he really said those words.  And I said yes.  He asked me if I remembered our last conversation and what he said to me.  I asked: about you reconciling with your wife?  No, he said.  About whether I would vouch for the fact we didn’t make love last time you were in my town?  No, he said.  About the fact that I sign all fo my emails, will ALL of my friends “I love you”?  No, he said, that I said I would call you, that I love you and to be patient with me as I figure everything out.  Did you remember that?  And I lied and said no.  YES!  I held onto that conversation on 12/14 like a drowning person holding on to a life-preserver.  And I said, oh yeah, you said you were going to call, and you didn’t.  (Because you’re a LIAR!!!!)  And he said, because I couldn’t but I will.  (Do I have a kick me sign on my forehead?)

He told me that the emails I send to him are directed to a “trash” folder and forwarded to his wife’s computer.  So she reads the emails I sent. And read the last one.   And he commented on the “bullet points.”  He asked me if I thought that someone else might read it and I said no.  I didn’t.  Did I?  I’m glad that she read it though.  Why didn’t you call me or email me?  You could have, it wasn’t impossible.  Are you wearing an ankle bracelet?  Yes, he said, practically speaking I am.

And then he tells me that up until this point he’s had a good marriage and that this has been seismic on all accounts.  We talk for a few more minutes and I let that “good marriage” statement go until 10 minutes later when I said – you have a shitty marriage, you’ve always had a shitty marriage. Stop saying that to me already. It’s a mantra that’s meaningless.  And he says: I know; that’s why I need to be in individual therapy; I need to be able to speak freely and I can’t do that in couples therapy. 

Then the BIG QUESTION:  he asks me what he should do. I told him that I would never tell him what to do – that’s everyone else’s job.  He’s spent his entire life following everyone else’s orders and that at some point he needs to make his own decision and pick his own path. He has done what people have told him to do, what they expected him to do and whether he thought it was right or wrong, whether he agreed with it or not, he did it anyway.  When we worked together, he and I would fight over what I thought he should do.  And in the end, I would say to him, you never do what YOU want or think is right.  I told him that he would have made a great Nazi.  Never questioning, and always following orders.  I would never presume to tell him what to do.  It is not my call, it is not my decision, it is not my life.  I don’t want that responsibility.

I’m glad that he’s suffering. . But it’s an interesting turn of events. You know what he told me? That his wife told him that he is to never have any contact with me ever again, for the rest of his life. I get what she’s thinking and feeling. But when will she learn that you can’t tell someone what to do, what to feel. Not for nothing, but that is why this happened to her in the first instance. You can’t control someone – you should never try. What a fucked up mess he’s got going on. I don’t envy him at all. But, damn if it doesn’t feel good to be able to walk away from that. 

But then, just when I thought I could walk away, whoosh!  I felt the lasso around  my neck, choking off my oxygen supply and he said:  Will you call me tomorrow?  I asked if he wanted me to and he said yes.  I said that I would think about it.  I was going to see my shrink and he told me to talk to her about what he was going through.  Again, about you?  No, I thought.  This time is about me.

And then I saw my therapist.  We spoke about him, the call, my feelings.  My feelings of control, closure, catharsis. 

And what did I do?  The next day I called him.  It was a super interesting conversation.  I never heard him so resolute and strong.  He asked me what 3 things in my life were non-negotiable.  I told him that was in important question and I wouldn’t shoot from the hip as he had been thinking about it and asked him what his 3 things were.  He told me his kids (and he went on about being there for his kids, blah blah), happiness and a life partner.  I told him that was interesting.  He told me that he was surprised I didn’t say my kids.  I told him my kids are NEVER on the table.  Whether I’m physically with them or not, they are always my priority.  They aren’t non-negotiable, they just aren’t something to even discuss.  And eventually, when they grow up (oh so soon), even though they wont be with me physically, they will always be with me and I with them.  It was interesting to think about.  He told me that was on the table since it was important to me.

He asked me what I wanted as regards him and again, I told him I wouldn’t answer.  It is not about me.  It is about him.  I also told him that I am so angry and so hurt that I can’t answer that question.  That there have been days when I was so hurt and so pained that I couldn’t even breath.  He said he knew that feeling because he felt the same.

The last thing that he said was that he wants and needs and will only live his life honestly.  Whatever it is he choses to do, it will be the honest decision for him.  I was awed by what he said.  And I replied – that was all I ever asked of you.  I told you that I wanted to hold your hand in public; to say that I had a companion/boyfriend/partner, but you said no.  It was never me who picked the lie.  And he said, that what we had, was over, the lies, the hiding.  And I said: baby, it’s so over.

As we were getting ready to hang up, he said to me:  I was told to tell you that, if you ever called me, to never call me again.  And I asked:  Are you telling me to not call you again?  He said:  I’m just telling you what I was told to say to you if you called.  So I asked him:  Do you want me not to call you?  He chuckled and said: You’re always the lawyer.  Just think about what I said.  OK, I said.  I’ll call you again.

Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about what he said.  I knew what he was saying.  I’m so sad, again.  Because I’m feeling the closure and it’s like a little death.  I believe in fate – if it is meant to be, it will be.  My xMM and I have crossed paths during most of our adult lives and didn’t meet until 5/2006.  We had an affair, we fell in love and then we parted.  Will our paths cross again?  I don’t know.  It’s nice to fantasize about.  Would I like that?  Or not?  Would it make me happy? or not? 

To be, or not to be.  That is the question.

Mother may I?

January 25, 2010

I feel like I’m doing better, except when I’m not.  I feel like I’m moving on, except when I’m not.  I feel like I’m going to get through this and be stronger and wise, except when I’m not.  I feel like a million contradictions going on all the time in my head.  It feels like that game of “mother-may-I” and I keep forgetting to ask and then have to take a giant step back. 

You may have an hour where you don’t think about your MM.

Mother may I?

Yes, you may.

You may go the supermarket where you’ve talked to your MM on the phone as you’ve driven back and forth, for the last 3 years and not think about that, him or what he’s doing.


You didn’t say “Mother may I” now have a really shitty afternoon thinking about what he’s doing.  Is he watching the football game (yeah, probably), is he vacuuming (yeah, probably), did he do laundry, (of course, it’s Sunday).  Do I give a shit??? Mother may I stop giving a shit???? Please!?!?!?!?!

Other than that, I had a great day yesterday.  I find the time I spend thinking about my xMM dwindling but when I do think about him, the anger that I feel comes flooding back.  I wonder why I’m so angry still.  What am I doing?  He doesn’t care.  It doesn’t have any impact on him, at all.  The only person who is suffering from that is me.  Yet I can’t let it go.  Why not?  My therapist talks about control.  Yes, I like to be in control and this entire episode has taken that away from me. 

No matter how much control you think you have, when you’re having an affair you NEVER have any control – if you want to see him, it is at his beck and call, when he can get away from his W, his kids; when his W is away, during business hours when no one else is around.  I never thought how much control I had ceded to MM before.  And it always felt like the other way around.  He would always ask me to look at my schedule, when could we see each other again, when could I speak with him, where did I need to go/offices to visit/states to be in.  He said that he would accomodate me, but oftentimes it was difficult for me to pull the trigger.  It was easier to let him tell me – where he needed to go, where he needed to be, when he needed to go and then I could accomodate him.  It was manipulative on both ends.

The last couple of months I was pulling away from MM – emotionally. I knew that this was dead end, and always did from the beginning.  When I would fantasize about actually being with him, I would think of a million reasons why it wouldn’t work.  I think that he sensed my withdrawal.  He kept trying to entice me to come to holiday parties with him, meet him at a local casino, come to my town for a romantic night or two before Christmas.  I was ambivalent and wouldn’t commit.  There were a lot of things going on in my mind – not the least was dealing with the fact of how angry I was that he was fired from his job, that seeing him was going to be extremely difficult; he kept asking me to give him a job (something I couldn’t do on any level).  It was just becoming too much and I was starting to find that the relationship was draining me.  As I look through some of the old emails that he sent during the last month, they almost all start out with “I’m sorry that I was so needy today” or “Thank you for listening to me”  or “I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to ask you about your day or what was going on in your life.”  What the hell?  I wasn’t getting any work done, because he was monopolizing my time.  I was getting to speak to anyone else during the day, because he was always on the phone or on skype.  I felt badly for him.  Poor, poor pitiful MM.  😦  (Can you feel the resurection of my Florence Nightingale complex?)  So why am I having a pity party??

Today was a particularly crappy day.  I don’t know why.  I decided that I was going to write a letter to MM and tell him how angry I was at him.  I started to write it but couldn’t finish it. 

I wrote:

“While I have no expectation of getting a response from you, I can’t help but wonder why you wont speak to me.  Why you said that you would call me and haven’t; why it is OK to speak to everyone else but me.  Why you ever said the things you did to me and how you can cut me out of your life as if I didn’t exist, as if I never existed.  I can’t believe above all else, is how much that hurts. I thought that we were friends, in addition to everything else, but I guess I was wrong.  I thought that we cared about each other, but again, I must be wrong.  I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that you told me you would call me and didnt’ that you didn’t want anything to do with me and how we ended up here.  The pain of those feelings is so crushing at times that I can’t breath.  We have been inseparable since May 2006 – I even remember you picking me up at the train station in Rhode Island, in fact I don’t think I have a memory from the past 3 1/2 years that doesn’t include you.  I guess whatever memories or thoughts you had of me are extinguished.  I would like to know how you can do that.  I haven’t been able to do that yet and could use some help.  Don’t you think of me anymore?  At all?  Ever?  I don’t know how you can go from loving me to hating me so easily.  From speaking to me for hours a day to nothing at all.”

I couldn’t finish it because the truth is I didn’t know what else to say.  I don’t want him back, but I miss the intimacy.  I don’t want him back, but I miss the adoration.  I don’t want him back, but I miss the sex.  I don’t want him back, but I’m lonely.  I don’t want him back, but will I forever be alone?  Is it better to have half a man than no man? 

So – I stalked MM at his new job and online today.  And the cosmic nuttiness of the universe caused me to speak to someone that MM spoke to last week, who gave me all of MM’s new contact information – phone number, email, mailing address.  Woohoo. I had to explain why I didn’t have the information.  So I shared some of the truth – he was jealous that I got this great job that he thought he should have, that he had been fired from a company that I left with great contacts and feelings, that he was going to be out of the industry and fundamentally, couldn’t be happy for me, was never happy for me.  🙂  Yes, feeling quite the bitch today.  Should I finish the letter and mail it?  Email it?  Call him?   Yes, I could call the phone number and at the very least hear his voice on the recording.  I can’t believe I thought those things today.  And then, another smack.  One of my best friends heard from MM today about his new job.  They had a decent conversation, hung up and 2 seconds later he called her back.

MM:  Have you heard anything personal about me?

Friend:  From who?

MM:  From OW?

Friend:  No.  We don’t talk about you.  (Ah, it’s so good to have friends lie for you.)

MM:  Oh.  OK.  Well tell her that I say hello.

Friend: Why don’t you call her and tell yourself.

MM: I can’t do that.  It’s a long story.

He’s afraid that I’m going to tell people about our affair.  Seems like the reins of control were never too far away.  Good thing she knew the story.  Should she call him back and tell him she knows, that he acted despicably and owes me an apology?  What’s that going to get me?  He has nothing that I want anymore.  Maybe that’s really the saddest part of all.  That I could go from these tremendously high feelings, to what?  Nothing?  Nobody?

Tomorrow you will have a better day.

Mother may I?