S.O.B.

Obsess. Scream. Pull my hair out. Wail like the shitty little puke that sat at table 45 did today when his waffles didn’t get put in front of him as soon as he sat down. That’s what the past few days have been like. Context is important but I’ll spare the play-by-play for now. The short version is that NB subliminally (no, I’m not crazy, he really did) reached out to me, because of course he fucking did. So I then wrote him a calm and collected message to tell him I thought it was unfair/cruel and that he had until mid-August to speak actual words to me before I blocked/deleted his number and changed my own. I guess She got ahold of his phone and somehow my address, and we had a lovely impromptu chat outside of my house. I didn’t try to correct her or fight her or compete against her or plead with her. I listened, apologized sincerely and answered any question she had honestly.  She had plenty to say, obviously, most of which I anticipated and took as dignified as the Other Woman can in this situation. Apparently I am delusional and manipulative, and with my wily witchy ways, wooed him into my web. Like that alliteration or what?  So, basically, I’m a sorceress with a magic vagina who eats people’s partners for funsies. Yep. There’s the short version. 

Here’s how I’m not handling things. I’m still sober. That’s all I’ve got. I think a lot. I spend much of my time on the couch staring off into space. That’s it. Tonight I was thinking about feelings and how we describe them (or choose not to). I have a lot of opinions on what’s gone down lately, but I have a hard time expressing myself honestly. Sometimes we say things because we think we’re supposed to. They fit. They make people more comfortable. They sound better out loud to us, to them.

I say, ‘I’m working on acceptance. I want to get to the place where I can forgive him’. I’m really saying, ‘how could he do this to me? How could he not protect me? I was the only one on his side’.

I laugh at work and a friend says, ‘I haven’t heard that in a long time, you must be doing better!’ I say, “Yeah! Today’s an okay day actually”. I’m really saying, ‘the absurdity of what just happened to my heart makes me burst into laughter because there is nothing left to do’.

I say, ‘I guess it could always be worse, right?’ I’m really saying, ‘what is happening is far worse than anything I’ve ever imagined’.

These small conversations make me laugh and cry and rage. How do you handle the fact that the person that you held in such high esteem betrayed your confidence, privacy, and love without saying a word? You don’t. I don’t know how. Is it even possible?

I sit in my house, I go to work, I run errands, I watch TV and am learning to ignore the questions cycling through my head throughout the day. I try not to look over my shoulder at work and at home (I’ve been told I won’t be left alone unless I leave my job, and Vancouver).

I ask myself a hundred more times, ‘how could he do this to me?’
I say, ‘guess he wasn’t who I thought he was, that pile of garbage’.
I’m really saying ‘he owed me more than this.’
Ask another hundred times, ‘how could he fucking do this to me?’.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Betrayal, what a bitch. I’m an idiot, a naive little girl.

P.S. Rot in hell, you piece of shit.

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