Love Bites

I went to bed at one and was awake by five. It just isn’t going to go well. Tears in my pillow and all that.

Yikes.

I suppose you are all waiting in suspense, eh? (CF, is that “eh” Canadian for “huh”?)

Update

I met with Mr. Boyfriend last night. We now have closure. Neato, frito. Talk about two people with deep issues trying to fight a losing battle…wow.

He mentioned a 90-day rule he has regarding break-ups. 90 days without dating anyone to allow time to heal and give room and possibility for reconciliation. He wanted me to commit to not dating for 30 days.

While you all know I have no interest in dating anyone else, he hasn’t gotten this particular point. But still this 30-day thing stung my pride. What? He doesn’t want me so I should lock myself in a closet? Old tapes again.  I actually think what he says makes sense. But, shit, look at my posts…what does sense have to do with anything? I’m like a run-on sentence – one big run-on emotion.

OK, I’m going to try to get down to brass tacks. This is difficult because I am exhausted physically and emotionally. I’m going to skip the talking part between he and I – how we got there (lets just say I got really mad and finally picked up the phone…and he answered).

More of the Icky History

There are parts of my marriage I have not talked about here. Soul eating parts. It seriously was SO fucked up. I let my ex mess with my head and my heart and it tore a part my soul. There is no other way to describe it.

I was this man’s wife for 15 years. I stood by him through everything life can throw at a human being and a young couple. I was the mother of his three children. That in itself deserves some level of honor, I think.  What he did is this:

He left. He moved out. But he told me he wanted to get marriage counseling, etc. And so we did. He went into therapy. He lived with his folks. This went on; call me stupid, for two or more years. I filed for divorce three times. All but the last time, he convinced me it wasn’t what he wanted. During this time, he told me that his family, all the people that he worked with, were all against us staying together. That by getting visibly angry when he broke into my home at Christmas time and stole all the decorations, etc., (I made a huge scene – I’d had enough), his family was really upset (he said) and it would be bad for our marriage to involve them. Our family, our marriage became a secret. Even our children (unbeknownst to me) were not allowed to talk to their grandparents about things we did as a family. We went camping, to a water park, etc. etc. Never anything in town, never anything where anyone would see us. Meanwhile, the girlfriend was being introduced to the parents. Mothers Day, Fathers Day, golfing, dinners. I was invisible – his wife, the mother of his children. His parents live eight blocks from me and thought he and I were getting a divorce. This wasn’t difficult, I suppose, given the violence. Isolation is the first mode of manipulation. I was very isolated.

I didn’t understand any of this at first. Later it became apparent and his dishonesty, his manipulation, his dishonor, was too much to handle. I still can’t quite describe it, nor can I comprehend it. I can tell you that I have never felt quite so fractured in my life. He betrayed everything that was important to me. He simply did not care for me. At all.

It Relates Like This

The reason I bring all this up is because of something I said regarding Mr. Boyfriend. I said that our relationship was very segmented. We hang out in a bar and go dancing. We go out to dinner. We do things alone. There is no real sense of couplehood – you know, where others validate it, us, our relationship. And I needed that. It started to feel like a secret relationship. He invited me to go out of town several times with him on work functions – and I know I would have met people that are important to him there, so it wasn’t that he did this intentionally. But nonetheless, this is what occurred. I think that if we had been validated as a couple we might have been able to naturally begin to blend our lives.

I opened up my life to him on many levels. He met my family, my kids, my parents, my friends, people that are important to me. I did not meet many who were important to him. I suspect this is because the last woman wreaked such incredible havoc on his life. But I have realized that I can only pay for her mistakes for so long. I shouldn’t have to pay for them at all, I know. But he was paying for the ex’s stuff, and you know, I thought we had something worth wading through all this garbage for. The flip side of that coin, and this is tough to admit, is that somewhere inside of him, he knew I wasn’t what he wanted. Why open his life up to me if he knows I’m not going to be something he keeps in his life?

Welcome to dating, Kimmy

Other than that moment in September, he never told me he was in love with me. I needed the words. I did. Cause, gosh, hanging on and working through stuff is so much easier when the payoff is love and adoration on both sides. I mean that seriously.

I finally, broke down and told him this last night. I told him that I had needed the words. It would be humiliating if it hadn’t been an exit scene. I have never experienced THIS before (and gee, I’ve experienced quite a bit!). He somehow managed to convey to me that he was in love with me without ever saying it. But still, I need the words. And of course, he felt manipulated, like I was trying to force him into saying the L word. I wasn’t. That’s the whole reason I never said anything before now. No human being wants to have to demand those words from another. But we need them. I won’t demand them. Ever. I’m actually kind of surprised I’m even in this position (I say that with some humor). It’s a weird place to be.  Love is usually something so freely given in my life. I love my kids, I love my parents, I love my friends.

The L Word

I loved Mr. Boyfriend. But you know what? I wasn’t free to tell him. I wasn’t free to really ACT like it because he had these weird constraints. The few times I did tell him and he responded with an “I love you, too”, I felt like I was pushing something better left unpushed. So I stopped. I waited. I did not love him for the sole purpose of extracting love for me from him. But I can’t continue with something romantic without it. So I go.

His focus, of course, is on the male friends I hung with. On the tapes in his head. This is as it should be. I have already owned what I can of that. The rest I give to God. I cannot stop my natural personality. I cannot sit home and mope and be miserable anymore. There was a place at my side for him. Out of pride, out of stubbornness, he demanded that I come to him. I was there with friends, I was there first. I was in a situation which demanded some sort of social grace. Instead, it became something else. So be it. I am not unfaithful or inappropriate. I am who I am. And I loved him.

How do I feel? Very hurt. Very alone. Very disappointed. Very sad. I feel like I finally caught the final act of the play and the rest of it makes sense now.

However, at this moment, at this point, I feel better. Maybe it’s closure. Maybe it’s confronting the things, which weren’t working for me and actually…not accepting them. For once, for me, it’s not an issue. Issues, you know, can be solved and worked around. But needs, big needs, like the need to know how someone feels about you…they can’t be. Romance is so essential to a woman’s heart. Love so essential to a human beings. I can’t, won’t, ever be in a long-term relationship without the two.

So that’s the scoop. I’m off to work. You never know, though, I may have a lapse and run back to the computer crying my eyes out again. Wish me luck!