Aftermath

Aftermath

I didn't stop talking to him immediately after that message he sent me.  Truth be told, he’d ‘cut me off’ a number of times prior to that. We actually had a set of boundaries and expectations in place for just these sorts of occasions.

The last time he'd insisted we cease speaking, after the initial shock and flood of texts I sent him, I stopped texting him altogether.  He messaged me after a few days of silence and accused me of getting over him. 

So for the next 6 weeks or so, I texted him every day. Here’s some highlights of my shame:

Strike One.

In the first year we were together, he cheated on me with his sister’s girlfriend.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Behold. My empire of scraps.

I can scrape a life together from ashes and crumbs.

Attempt #2?

I asked a girl out for a coffee.  She’s sweet and cute, and I’ve heard she and I have had some similar experiences relationship wise.  She said:

 “I would absolutely love to, but not for a few weeks.  I have a crazy couple weeks.”

“Ok, sure, no pressure.  Let me know if and when you’re ready.”

She seems genuine, but it could easily be one of those “I want to say no, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings” kind of answers. So I’ve left it in her court and minimized the amount that I interact with her dramatically.  She’s not really picked up the slack, which led me to leaning toward her feeling option 2.  

But then I come to find out from a mutual friend that she was incredibly enthusiastic about me asking her out.  Despite not actually setting a date.  And I’m excited knowing that she’s excited that I asked her out.  Despite not actually having a date set.

So we’re both super happy about an event that, at this rate, is not likely to happen because I’m not going to ask again and she doesn’t seem to want to nail it down.  And ... we’re content with that?

Yep.  We’re broken.

Late Night Realization

I didn’t want to buy a house yet, and he was so angry.  He threatened to leave me.  He told me that I was keeping him down, and that I loved watching him suffer.

My reluctance was my subconscious throwing up warning signs: Get out!  Don’t invest financially in this this too!

His threats won, my subconscious lost, and he and I started “living the dream.”

After my indiscretions came to light, he told me that he pursued other options when I showed resistance and had been carrying on periodic dalliances online  since then. Though nothing as serious as what I did, of course as he wasn’t that sick. They provided emotional ‘support’ when I was ‘hurting’ him.

He never met up with any of them, so he says, despite having plenty of opportunities. Realistically it doesn’t matter now, and I don’t care if he did.

What stings is that I allowed him to hold me under his thumb and torture me as punishment for my own infidelity.  And he was out there likely doing the same thing, or something in the same vein at the very least .  

It doesn’t justify what I did, but it does render his disdain and condemnation illegitimate.

This has all just sunk in tonight.  If I had any guilt or shame left for what I’ve done, it’s fucking gone now.