Today I am cognizant of weird moments but unsure if I am thankful for them.
The man in the basement's father died on Thursday, at least it would appear he may have. I don't know anymore.
We have a court date on Monday. This date will determine when we can actually file for a legal separation. I've been waiting for that court date for over three years.
I'm in pain. My ex is freaking out. He thinks it is appendicitis and he doesn't want me to die on his watch.
I don't want to use his health insurance.
It's not appendicitis. It's an ulcer.
I'm in pain.
I was in the basement with him arguing over the stalking and asking him to tell me what he knows. I mentioned going to the police and hiring a private investigator. I begged him to tell me what he knew before the police found out and arrested him.
He denies knowing anything and claims his sister is behind it all.
I'm terrified. The past year has been hard. I've taken a good hard look at myself and I see why I'm in the mess I'm in.
I'm a mess.
I'm old. I'm boring. I'm ugly. I'm rude. I'm nasty. I'm fat. I'm lazy.
This is what I've attracted to myself.
I'm not a catch for anyone.
Everyone knows how much I hate Facebook. I detest it. Still, clients and politicians contact me through the messaging system, so I have to check the darn thing every flippin' day.
One of the things that I hate about Facebook is that you never know who posts are about.
So, when a person you care deeply for posts things about
loving a woman who is unavailable,
who is making him feel confused,
who he doesn't know how to approach,
and who is wrong about thinking that she has to be perfect to be loved,
you tend to wonder if it is about you but you shake it off because deep down you know your love for him is unrequited.
You assume he's playing the field and you let it go and wish him well.
I spend more time on another social networking site and every time I see his avatar pop up on my chat function, I feel warm and happy. I know what I feel.
If I feel that way, I'll steer clear of him.
I'm old. I'm ugly. I'm fat. I'm turning gray.
I don't even remember how to kiss.
I'm not even sure that my other parts work any more.
If I love him, I'd certainly want him to have exactly what he wanted. No man orders lumps and bumps with a side order of crazy.
Besides, it must be unrequited. Love grows slowly. It takes time. It is an energy that grows with exposure. I've avoided him for a couple of months out of fear of hurting him.
I've never really dated. The three relationships I had over the span of my life were born out of deep friendship. We hung out. We kissed. It was always natural. It was always unexpected.
It was never romantic. It always took me by surprise.
I've been pondering them over the past six years. I want to know my part in how they ended. The first one won't tell me. The second one had another love who was older during our entire relationship, he dated me for show and her for sex. This one hates women.
I am terrified of breaking anybody's heart. I see the way that first one looks at me. I let him go because we thought he'd be happier without me. Twenty-six years later, he still doesn't seem very happy. It kills me to see him hurt, so I avoid him.
I'm terrified to let anyone else in. Love doesn't die. I don't know how to handle it well when it changes. I don't fear what happened with my last two relationships. I fear repeating what happened the first time. I fear causing someone a lifetime of misery due to unspoken feelings: I fear having someone fall in love with me before they realize that we are incompatible.
Our hearts are much faster at reacting than our brains.
How can a man feel anything for me, especially if he doesn't know all my annoying quirks?
He doesn't know that I cannot hate a soul; I even love the statists. I think it drove him up a wall to read something nice I said about a RINO in the paper. I only spoke it because it was true and I wanted him to embrace his ability to care deeply for others. The entire city saw that quality come out in spades last July. It needed to be said whether or not my friends liked it.
He doesn't know that I cannot lie well. I'm an open book.
He doesn't know that I am gullible. I believe too much.
He doesn't know that if I don't know what is going on, I have no idea what to say.
I don't know what is going on in my life so I don't know what to say.
He doesn't know that crying spells give me migraines.
He doesn't know that when I cry, the tears burn my skin and leave tiny lesions under my eyes on the side that the tears roll down.
My skin looks so bad today that I cannot possibly go outside. The skin on the left side of my face has two incredibly horrible welts around my mouth and chin. The black henna that I use for mascara has left a little vertical line under my left eye and a horizontal line extending from my right eye across the bridge of my nose.
Why?
Well....
I'm beginning to believe those posts were about me.
He professed his love for me in front of all those right wing politicians who guilt tripped me into co-habiting with a man who broke my heart thirteen years ago.
I'm waiting for the deluge of guilt tripping phone calls.
Where is my mother-in-law when I need her? She wants the divorce to be final. Why can't she talk to her son today? We could have a win-win now.
In fact, my phone has been ringing off the hook this morning. I haven't answered because the light hurts my eyes.
I can't find the migraine meds.
For nearly eighteen months, I thought my feelings were unrequited.
I'm confused. I'm stuck. I'm in pain.
I wanted to be better before inviting someone new into my life. I don't want to share my pain and confusion with another soul.
If it is true that love will find a way, I'm hoping for a path to present itself.
Maybe my friend was just a little tipsy last night and didn't mean a word of it.
I'm too old. My hair is turning gray. My face is scarred. My body is lumpy.
I'm not a catch at all.
When he sees that I'm weird, anxiety-ridden, saggy, baggy, and confused he will change his mind.
Won't he?
I've been praying for a partner who will let me hold a job, who will let me have a life, who will work with me and can see a future with me. I like things more than I care to admit. I like to flirt. I like innuendo. I like touching.
I want a playful adventure not a drama filled play.
I want a reason to wake up in the morning. I want to sleep with more than books. I want a reason to celebrate the holidays.
This is what he seems to want, too.
I'll wait until Monday and see what the judge says. It'll get better sooner rather than later.
Maybe my friend will meet a fashion model in the mean time. Life is meant to be lived.
Why am I stuck?
Love,
S.
