Eyes Wide Shut

I love finding out that someone thinks I've been put on the closet shelf. Quite a few days ago, which helped to contribute to the communication breakdown between the old man and I, I had a great conversation with a group leader I'd become acquainted with. Apparently she'd been told (before Mr. committed his faux pas and before he or I had any inkling things were going to take a turn for the worst) that he and I were "just about done". I was startled to hear her say it because, on that particular day, I hadn't yet made a final decision, and most importantly, Mr. & I hadn't even had a chance to have a real conversation about it, all the blogging aside. This particular group leader did not have access to my blog, and even if she had, isn't a blog reading kind of girl. So it came back to my ghost again, setting us up for failure, and announcing it to the world. I don't excuse Mr. his part in this ridiculous nonsense, it obviously takes more than one person to commit an indiscretion. But this just confirmed my opinion of the kind of person he's dealing with.
Tomorrow is Sunday....it was our unofficial day together for a couple of weeks. He's extended his hand in friendship to celebrate the holiday together. I accepted. I miss Mrs D. Juju misses her adopted family. Breakfast, a movie, some fun time....maybe even THAT DAMN KITE!! LOL. And we'll do it as friends, friends who still have the vivid memory of being lovers. That ought to go over well. I can't just walk away, unfortunately there is too much entanglement involved to do that. But things have changed, as all things do in time. Another chapter....the story goes on.
So Mr., I see as your anxiety level climbs over your upcoming special date, you turn to the person you feel has the sane, intelligent mind to support you through it. Yes, you have my full support, even if I think you are a flaming tard for getting into the mess in the first place. Just remember where you were when it happened. And remember who your company was when the second incident happened. It wasn't me. I can't wait till this freaking mess is done, so we can have a real decent fight about the whole mess. Yes, a knock down, drag out, old fashioned fight. Random wood? Yeah, I thought so...

Speak to Me

It's a human tragedy, there is just no other words to describe the sorrow of it. When two people, best friends, once so much in love can no longer communicate. Every word becomes strained, the silences stretch longer ....
I hate this part. I hate myself for becoming this. Becoming unable to speak without vitriol, being unable to say or even think in his presence without the images in my mind soiling it, making every moment painful, hurting myself, and him, and feeling pleasure amidst the ocean of rage, and the small beacon of guilt for behaving so.
I know things will fade in time. The anger, the feeling of being betrayed and abandoned. But there are so many memories in my mind that were full of joy, that now just seem dirty, and disillusioned. Like Prince. Mr expanded my joy of listening to him...even gave me Diamonds & Pearls. I can't listen to it any more...can't listen to Prince anymore with any enjoyment or without feeling, well, violated.
So the calls become fewer, and the distance grows. At least someone is happy about it. Maybe time and distance will make me less of a termigant. Maybe he'll remember he loved talking to me once. Maybe I'll be able to look back and see the man who was my friend some day. I've so few true ones in my life, it feels like the biggest heartbreak is losing one. For those real ones left in my life, I need you to know and feel how much I love and value you. And yes, I know I've only myself to blame in all of this.
I was reading another blog, a good one actually. The theme was letting go. When is it time to stop fighting? Sometimes a person's part in your story ends, and that's when it's time to let them go. I don't know how my story is going, or who's part is done. But I am definitely done fighting. No more beating the dead horse. No more jabs, or veiled insults. I'm sorry for that, it's not who I want to be. I don't want to read ahead into my story just yet, though. I've placed the bookmark for now because I need to catch my breath, blow my nose, and wipe my eyes.
Namaste

Bored Rantings

Today, the walls felt like they were getting just a little too close. I knew I had reached the peak of my boredom when doing the dishes, washing the sink, and tidying the bedroom felt good. I invited company over, but of course, it didn't work out, and I was left listening to the minutes tick by, waiting for my daughter to get out of school. I dutifully did my online applications. Three of them today, catching up for the week. It seems foolish and futile to keep applying when the phone never rings. I'm up to 28 applications sent out in the last few weeks....hopefully my waning patience will pay off soon.
So I thought about Mr some. I miss my friend. Never mind the sex part...I miss the person I used to holla at, and share stuff with. He's called, and at least I get a laugh whenever I hear his new ringtone. "Dirge of the Dead". LOL, he got quiet and hissed "nice" at me when I told him. We talked some, mostly about "safe" topics. His daughter, his job. My search, my daughter. We exchanged a few barbs, rather mild, and laughed that he was the devil.
I had asked him some weeks ago whether I was the fire or the ice. I was fully prepared to be named the Ice. It's what had been flung at me in college..."ice queen". It's a hurtful kind of name, one that implies frigidness, an inability to feel, to love. An inability to share passion. I even prompted Mr when I asked him " Well, which one am I then...the ice?" He looked up from the computer screen, a bit startled then, rather taken aback. "My god no Dots, you are all fire." "Really?" I asked...it was my turn to be startled. "Why, because of my flaming temper?" LOL, well, everyone knows I have this HORRID temper. Mr won't come within 30 miles of me when he knows I'm good and pissed. Smart man. But to my surprise he answered "No! It's because you do that screaming thing, and sometimes when I wake at night, I can still hear your screams." Wow, it was a genuine feel good moment.....of course I'm convinced he told the other one a similar story.
Thankfully tomorrow I get some time away. I have some decisions to make, decisions that have to be made in his presence. We'll get that short bit of time tomorrow, and I hope to keep my temper firmly in control. I suppose if it gets too tense, I can always play his ringtone and get a laugh. LOL

The Thing About Great Weekends is...

So, I've had a couple of good weekends in a row, and then some really shitty days. But I rethought my eight year old's advice, and decided she was right. LOL! So I'm happy to report that I've had another amazing weekend. It was kind of bittersweet since my "partner in crime" wasn't there to hold my hand, and say nasty things, but MY GOD. It still blew my mind.
I don't want to pout and sulk, and wallow in self pity because Mr has moved on. I'm a grown woman, with lots of opportunities, and a stable, sane mind for picking and choosing the best of the crop. It won't be the same....he was my introduction to the lifestyle, and he really did make it special. Thank you Mr, for that experience. But I'm not going to give it up simply because he's found greener pastures. The thing about the lifestyle is that the people are so amazing. As a couple, we had made so many sincere friends that truly cared about us, and would gladly rock our world too. Those people haven't disappeared. They still care about ME, as a person, and still want to rock my world, even without King Dong along. That makes the separation a little easier in the end. And hell....meeting new people is exciting as all get-out! The nervous flutters, the little catches in breath...it's validation that we are so alive and vibrant.
But familiar lovers are a comfort too, and so I spent my weekend enveloped in the safe haven of their arms. I looked in the mirror this morning, and felt more beautiful than I had in a long time, knowing I had given, and received an amazing night. Thank you so much, both of you. It was so great to scream, and laugh, and just love again, without all the insecurities I've been toting around lately. You guys rock! Ohhhh, and Shaggy? It's a good look for you, don't get rid of it! MWAH!

Dear Abby...err....Juju

I was talking to my eight year old and asking her advice. I find myself so wrapped up in all my feelings that I thought it might be interesting to have the direct, unfettered knowledge of a child. So I asked..."Juju, what would you do if someone broke a promise to you?" She cocked her head to the side, and thoughtfully replied "What kind of promise?". "A really important promise, something that can make your heart happy or sad.", I told her. "I'd have to think about it a lot", she said, "cuz I'm not sure". "What if they'd broken that same promise before...broken the promise a lot?" "Well", as she rubbed my shoulder, "I'd do it back to them so that they know how awful it feels, and they'd stop doing it".
I caught the plague, and so I got to spend the day in bed today feeling crappy, and thinking about everything. The thinking part, it can make a person crazy as it makes the monsters of the situation swirl around in your gut, causing all the ugly green bile to burn a hole. But as simple as the solution my eight year old thought up sounds, it is just such the wrong thing to do. Tempting as all hell, but the truth is that it wouldn't make a difference. It won't stop his shenanigans, it might halt them for a bit, like a few days if I'm lucky. But the inevitable will continue. My God, he only made the promise three freaking weeks ago. And he crashed and burned before the third week was up. She really must be something special, so I can only choose to turn my head, or walk away.
I can't turn my head.
The other things I thought about concerned the welfare of my daughter. We've incorporated her into our relationship. She loves him, loves Mrs D, and is totally crushing on Bubbles. Now I have to extract her from all that and try not to let my anger color how she remembers him. He's been good to and for her, and I can't ever forget that part. But what am I teaching my daughter if I stay in a relationship that will, without fail, hurt my heart over and over again. It's NOT OK to break promises, and it's NOT OK to cheat. I can't let her think it's OK for any man to treat HER that way in the future, and the best way to show her that is to lead by example.
I thought we could all be happy together, that we could make a fresh start and make everything work out. Get over all the hurdles he's got coming up, become financially stable, and just spend our time caring for each other and the ones we love. But it's not enough for him, and perhaps it was not what he wanted right now. I can't think about it anymore, because it does hurt my heart, and I don't want to feel this way anymore. He is very much like a drug though, and hopefully, the need to connect will lessen as the days go by. He reminds me very much of a song by Sara Bareilles titled Gravity:
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.

Chorus:
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me

So I can only pray, and hope for the best. What I can say, what has been stewing inside of me is this thought: Mr, you called it a war of blogs. A war can only exist when a contest needs to be won. I shouldn't have had to compete for your affections. I didn't know I was, which apparently put me behind the curve. I wrote my blogs of our good times out of the sheer joy of having spent the time with you, out of the bliss that comes from having (what I thought)was an amazing connection with my lover, having personal time that felt genuine, and made me want to cry to the world how much I loved you. That was the motive on my part. I won't try to justify myself a moment more, if you didn't understand that to begin with, there was more to our problem than just "that woman".
Be happy.

Ghost

There is a song that has been in my life for some time now. It came to me on a tape made by a great friend of mine. He made the most fantastic mixed tapes ever, but this particular one was incredibly bittersweet because it held a message for me of how he felt, and how he knew I didn't. The tape was titled "Triad", and was in reference to Me, Him, and Baby Daddy....who I had not quite gotten over, at the time. It is a beautiful haunting song, rather filled with venom, and it really wasn't until many many years later when the song itself, and not just the beautiful melody, started speaking to me on a soul level. Then I heard the real bitterness and rather vitriolic lyrics that the Indigo Girls had penned, and I felt them on a cellular level. I felt ashamed, when I realized the pain I was feeling...at the time, was the same kind of pain I had caused someone else. It was a lesson learned in shame, humility, forgiveness, and true friendship. To that person, who to this day still holds out his hand in friendship to me, and lets me know the door is always open should I change my mind....I'm sorry. Truly sorry I couldn't be the woman you wanted and needed. You've had the patience of a saint, and I'm thankful for you. I still can't be that woman for you, but you should know that I will always love and cherish you for the man that you are. Thank you for the lesson learned, and for the gift of the song.
Mr - I pass the song on to you.

There's a letter on the desktop that I dug out of a drawer
The last truce we ever came to from our adolescent war
And I start to feel the fever of the warm air through the screen
You come regular like seasons shadowing my dreams

The Mississippi's mighty, but it starts in Minnesota
At a place where you can walk across with five steps down
And that's just how you started like a pinprick to my heart
But at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown

There's not enough room in this world for my pain
Signals crossed and love gets lost and time passed makes it plain
Of all my demon spirits I need you the most
I'm in love with your ghost
I'm in love with your ghost

Dark and dangerous like a secret it gets whispered in a hush (don't tell a soul)
And when I wake the things I dreamt about you last night make me blush (don't tell a soul)
When you kiss me like a lover and you sting me like a viper
I go follow to the river play your memory like the piper

And I feel it like a sickness how this love is killing me
But I would walk into the fingers of your fire willingly
Dance the edge of sanity I've never been this close
In love with your ghost
oooooh-oooooooh-ooooooh-oooooooooh
oooooh-oooooooh-ooooooh-oooooooooh

Unknowing captor you'll never know how much you
Pierce my spirit but I can't touch you
Can you hear it a cry to be free
Oh I'm forever under lock and key
As you pass through me

Now I see your face before me I would launch a thousand ships
To bring your heart back to my island as the sand beneath me slips
I burn up in your presence and I know now how it feels
To be weakened like Achilles with you always at my heels

This bitter pill to swallow is the silence that I keep
It poisons me I can't swim free the river is too deep
Though I'm baptized by your touch I am no worse at most
In love with your ghost

Amy:
In love with your ghost
In love with your ghost
Emily:
You are shadowing my dreams

That Damn Shoe

I do live a part of my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Specifically, waiting for something awful concerning Mr, as he pursues his shenanigans again. He's the kind of man that makes you want to believe the words that come out of his mouth. He seems genuine, and earnest. Seems loving, and caring. Seems to honestly believe the words he's feeding you as much as you want to believe them.
He seemed to want to make a fresh start. To put the past behind him, and move forward living a new life, free of deceit. He seemed to be making an effort to show me that I could earn his trust back. He told me every lovely thing a girl wants to hear. He told me that he loved me. He told me that he wasn't shit without me. He told me he was glad I was in his life and in his corner. I'd waited almost my whole life to believe in those words and to hear them come from the lips of someone I wanted, and trusted, and loved with all my being. Our romantic life was picture perfect. We even started squabbling like an old married couple.
But that ghost was always there. The ghost of "that woman" as he'd named her. "She who shall remain nameless" he'd joke. The mysterious absence of the truck from his driveway...the multiple calls he'd NOT take while he was with me. I knew they were her, I know what her ring tone was. And then of course her words, which a friend let me know about. Her words chronicling their escapades last weekend. I emailed it to him, and confronted with the words, the best he could do was that she "misremembered". HMMM. "So she lied?" I demanded..."No, she just misremembered". Well OK then.
I spent most of yesterday fighting off a high blood pressure headache. I had to call my doctor and have her renew my prescription...something I haven't had to take in almost a year. But this just put me over the edge. I couldn't breathe, and was on the verge of throwing up most of the day and night. Blessedly, I was able to sleep, virtually dream free.
What I do know about women, however, is that they don't "misremember" sex. They can fabricate it, with the sole ugly intention of hurting another human being and destroying a relationship. Or they can gloat about a real encounter that left them feeling amazing. I don't think I really care anymore, simply because my fucking head hurts too much. Whatever the version of the story, it's destroyed every last bit of credibility and trust he seemed to want to rebuild. He told me once the reason we work so well as a couple is because I always knew when he was talking bullshit. My head may hurt an awful lot, and my face may be as red as a tomato, but I still know.