I’ve been going through my blog and categorising them…. a trippy experience, believe it. I have almost two hundred posts in this blog. I’m re-reading posts I made back in April and May, and it’s heart breaking. I just can’t cry.
My off-journal is also getting some action as well…. there’s just not instant gratification involved in writing off-line, it is a slow, thoughtful process that is hard to edit. I am working through a lot of my emotions right now, trying to keep things in perspective, but it’s not always the easiest thing to do.
I am regretful that this is the way things has to turn out, with things sprawled out all of JS, yet I am in no way regretful it is out in the open. Am I a bad person?
I was in love with someone, owned up in every way that counts to what I felt, and he moved shabbily. What is worse, is that he came looking for me, came looking for something that I had. The pulled the ‘I have shit to work out move’ and then went on to lie. To hide, to evade, to misrepresent, to use his secrets as a weapon, as leverage. All along, when I was divining, I was being told that someone was doing the manipulating, someone was lying, but I was wrong only about who was actually doing it.
All the nights, far more than I am willing to admit, that I barely made it home before I collapsed, convulsing in tears and heartache, crying, crying, crying my anguish out alone and with no one to comfort me, those are the tears that I had in this situation.
All the long, long months, of confusion and disappointment, and the torture of listening, being privy to her heart, and being powerless to do anything other than let the pain wash over me, and through me, trying to be the only thing remaining. I can’t personally say, I feel like crying now.
I am finally sleeping for the first time in too long, and now I know it’s because I was burying the truth.
You know, even after all that, I don’t believe I want him anymore. I filled his silence with my own imaginings, and absolutely have to remember the lessons this all taught me. I am so disappointed in him for what he did to her, that I don’t think I could be in a relationship with someone that could do that to someone he said he loved. If he ever said he loved me, I think that I would be too fearful of what he would keep from me.
I simply don’t believe in him anymore. I am also not sorry for him right now either. I think he asked for this plain and simple. He should have dealt with this back in March! That way we could have avoided all this bullshit. Instead, he chose to lie.
My outrage, is not for me alone, it is also for her.
It’s for that young woman that I was, that endured a miscarriage alone while the man she loved married another woman. It’s for that girl I was was lied to for a whole year while that marriage ensued, and who stood and listened while his conscience finally broke down and he called and told me the TRUTH.
Sweet Thing (I smile wistfully as I type) knew all those stories. All those heartaches I suffered with guys, because at some point I’ve told him about all of them, and he still did what he did. How is it, that he could be so afraid of facing himself, so afraid of taking responsibility for himself?
He looked for this, plain and simple. This was driven by the choices he made, and the way the Universe has of letting coincidence provide solution and resolution.
My brother and him are so alike sometimes it freaks me out. It’s no doubt it’s because they’re born a day apart. Not that they’re completely a lilke, but they both have the same way of approaching problems.
How can he say he wants to raise a good and honourable man in his son, and do what he did? Except, I know that this is what men do. This is what they do to themselves and to women.
In any case, I went numb a few weeks ago. So there aren’t any tears anyway. I almost wish I could cry. Cry for him, cry for her. Except, I’ve done all the crying I am doing over this. I can’t cry for him anymore, he’s unworthy. I can’t cry for her, she’s got to do her own crying.
Someone asked me, if I thought he would be angry with me. Let him come, I have a few choice words to put in his ass. However, in my experience of him, I doubt he has the balls to face me.
Now, is my time to sleep. Now it’s my time to heal from this, this trauma, this drama. I don’t need this particular brand of shit. Certainly not over a coward, liar and a cheat.
My husband is strong enough to face himself, the truth about himself and the world around him, without giving in to despair. My husband is spiritual and has faith in himself, in love and in the Universe to deliver to him, to us all that we need to live and love.
That doesn’t describe Sweet Thing.
Besides, sweet things rot your teeth.
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