Well hi. I am still reading and re-reading your notes and taking each and every one of them to heart. I know. I know! But I’m not doing well these last few days.
Surviving, yes. But having obsessive thoughts at work. Having several glasses of wine after work. Going to bed early and waking up in the middle of the night. Pathetic.
Yes, I will pick myself up off the ground. I know I will. It’s not that I’m completely wallowing in sorrow (* re-reading and that’s somewhat debatable). It’s just that I’m downright sad. Pure. Simple. And complicated.
So, you’re right. I did omit in my entries, but not purposely. Or I guess I should say, not consciously. Reading back it looks obvious. But I swear to you, I addressed my concerns to SexyPants and WITH SexyPants each and every time I had a concern. Every. Single. Time.
And every single time I wrote about it in my diary and then later spoke with him afterwards, he addressed me squarely (or so I thought), and told me that he wanted to make sure that we “managed expectations” with each other. And then his behavior would match our “agreements” and our discussions.
I’m not making excuses. I’m just saying that I truly thought we had everything out in the open. He made me feel so good about being able to be so open and honest with him…without any drama. I felt like our relationship was so strong. I was proud of US! We were able to work through any issue! Even his son, SOS. I thought that we were going to eventually get on the right track with him. I knew that aspect was going to take TONS of compromise, but I was prepping for it.
So I guess that him hiding the serial flirting makes it even more offensive, you know?
Now, of course I’m not perfect. Right? I have had my share of flirting. But I have NEVER, EVER led anyone on in the way that I discovered that he did. He would meet women on his business trips (and probably elsewhere, like when I traveled–NEVER in front of me), and instead of sharing a smile or a “simple” flirt, he’d exchange numbers and start a text or email relationship with them…one that led the other women on by either not disclosing that he was engaged or simply ignoring that fact. He’d invite them for drinks or send flirty emails about how “attracted” he was to them. He even arranged a trip around meeting one of them in a different state (didn’t happen–I think he freaked out and changed his plans). I don’t think it happened a LOT, but enough for me to find out pretty easily.
I believe (and as I understand it, he does too) that he has some kind of validation addiction–something that has to do with self-esteem that he’s had since he was in high school. It’s something that makes him not believe it when someone close to him would tell him that he is attractive or impressive, etc. He had to hear/get it from strangers and outside sources. Like, every single day I told him how handsome I thought he was (seriously! And I meant it!), only to find out that he thought I was just saying the words and not really meaning it because it’s something that I had to say because I loved him, you know?
And I do agree that at his age, what he did is who he is. But I also believe that now that there has been some major trauma to shake his foundation (SOS being permanently institutionalized, and the fact that I am gone), it could be possible for changes to occur. I’m not saying with me, in fact, probably more possible without me…
Anyway. I know you don’t want to hear this bullshit because I’m supposed to be working on ME, but I am going to get it out here anyway because it’s my diary. Yes, I am focusing/wasting (?) my energy on him, but the fact of the matter is, I’m NOT DONE loving him. I can’t just shut it off like a lightswitch.
Bottom line is, I truly, truly thought that I LOVED EVERYTHING about this man. I mean everything from the way he quietly snores at night, his goofy hand gestures, how he loved to curl up with me under that blanket, how he took care of me, how he’d want to know everything about my day every evening after work, how he’d make me dinner after my long days at the office, how he ran at exactly the same pace as me, how he dressed, how he shared my love of champagne, how much he loved his mom and sister, how he revered my parents, how sweet and gentle he was with his son…the list goes on and on and on… I guess that’s just me having obsessive thoughts and being heartbroken.
I don’t believe it was all a LIE. It’s just that there was a big ol’ yucky slice of dishonesty and secrecy in our proverbial cake. And I ate that stuff along with the good pieces. I guess I frosted that cake. It sure was pretty (ooh, and *sparkly*).
And now I’m sick, sick, sick.
I’m having a really bad day.
I love you.
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