Today I am thankful that I am exiting a dead man's party.
It's a pity party.
I think it still counts.
The sad thing, though, is the realization that this man never truly lived.
***
I'm not sure what the stalking is about. What I do know is that my ex would complain to his mother about about me. I don't think he meant what he said as complaints, rather, they were excuses for what they both refused to do.
He didn't want to go to college, she didn't want to pay for it - so they blamed me.
He didn't want to have Sunday dinner with her, she didn't want to cook it - so they blamed me.
It makes sense.
I am the scapegoat.
Somewhere along the line, my previous loves (both of them) were dragged into it.
One is scary. I doubt they played with him.
The other lives far away. Thank goodness.
I think it's all good now.
I do wonder, though, what his younger sister expected to find when she tried to break into my house?
Maybe she expected to find him tied up in the basement, malnourished, with rats nipping at his feet.
Does he tell her that I tie him up or something?
That would make sense.
The truth is that I haven't done that for 15 years.
Yeah.....I used to do that because that's something that happily married people do
but maybe,
in that kind of anal retentive, narcissistic family, they don't know that.
So, I'm sorry.
***
He rented a place in Colorado Springs.
She won't find him here anymore.
I'm hoping the break-ins stop.
The problem, though, is that he expects me to drop the divorce.
I can't.
The stalking terrifies me.
As much as I try to make sense of it, I really can't.
I want to.
I can't.
***
I'm realizing why I'm hesitant with my friend Steve. He's too nice.
It's not real.
I don't want a fake guy.
I can't do that.
That's what led me into this heck hole.
Be honest.
Don't be insecure.
I want a real person. I don't want someone who has to keep up appearances only to blow a screw loose when all the crap decides to hit the fan.
When I think about nice guys...
the kind that are too nice (jerks in disguise).
I want to vomit.
It could be because I'm still sick (mentally and physically).
I ate ice cream the other day for a birthday party.
I'm allergic to the chemicals in most ice cream.
It'll take it a week to work out of my system.
So...I'm still sick from celebrating my final party with an emotionally dead man.
Ooooh....
***
I am still traumatized by the rant I received on 2-14-12. We were supposed to file for a divorce that month. I found out that my ex had stolen half the value of our retirement accounts, refused to pay the bills, claimed to have cleaned out and hidden all of our money and did so because he didn't want me to leave him.
That was also the day I found out he had asked his cousin to stalk my high school sweetheart (that thought makes me want to throw up).
The thing that rings in my ears is the phrase "if you were any prettier, I would not have allowed you to leave the house."
He was angry that I was in the paper and received attention.
That was the day I decided to gain weight so men wouldn't pay attention to me. I gained 40 pounds. I've got to lose another 18 to get back to a size 8.
I'm haunted by that.
Therapy didn't help.
My doctor says that getting away will help me.
Here is my problem.
My high school sweetheart and I look like brother and sister. It was creepy. Logic would dictate that in order to avoid the issue I had with my ex, I should only date people who look like me.
I tried that.
I didn't like that. I adore him but it felt incestuous.
I looked just like his mother, that man couldn't get too involved in a physical sense.
I don't blame him.
It is creepy.
Sure, familiar isn't a bad thing....but there is such a thing as too familiar!
A few years ago, my aunt sent me pictures of my biological father.
Care to guess who he looked like when he was younger?
Yep....
Crap, my jaw is tingling and not in a good way....
****
Steve wrote something to me last spring.
I think about it and I want to throw up.
I'm realizing that if I can't keep my supper down, my subconscious mind is trying to force me to look at some issue.
Here it is.
What he wrote was something about trying to impress me and him devaluing me because he thought I was out of his league.
I don't know what the world that means.
I don't.
The truth is, when I hear that phrase "out of my league", I want to rent a submarine.
How many leagues is too many?
That's stupid.
The question is what does one find beautiful.
What is beautiful to me?
Well...honesty, kindness, openness, a propensity to be a leader rather than a follower, authenticity, living in the moment, compassion, non-materialism, optimistic, romantic, loyal, self-awareness, dignity, assertiveness, kind to those with less (not selfish or greedy).
*****
I always liked bald guys with blue eyes that smell like soap.
The man that raised me was bald, had blue eyes, smelled like soap, and loved to read. He wore button up cotton shirts and gray or blue trousers. He wore these outfits everyday.
He was always clean, even in the garden.
I had the wonderful fortune of being raised by my grandparents. My aunt was just a few years older than I, so I had a big sister. It was heaven.
My grandfather was an introvert. We had a crazy connection since I was a baby. As far back as I can remember, when my natural parents went bananas, my grandfather would take me out into the garden and put me to work (not sure I did anything, though). He planted my favorite fruit with me. We had strawberries, peaches, raspberries, rhubarb, grapes....lots and lots of grapes.
He planted daisies, orchids, poppies, and roses.
There were always fresh flowers in the house for Grandma.
My grandfather rarely spoke but when he did...he shared pearls of wisdom.
I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be a person of few words but great meaning.
We were close.
I knew when he was diagnosed with cancer. I felt it. I knew when he had a stroke. I felt it. I knew the day he died because he announced it in a dream.
If I screwed up, he could help me course correct with just a few words.
He wasn't sure about my marriage and I should have listened to him. He was concerned that my in-laws were taking too much of my energy.
I was lost when he died shortly after my 27th birthday.
There was a silent understanding between my grandfather and I. I miss that dearly. I hadn't realized how much I missed that until I remembered it..... because I felt it again.
I never thought I'd have that kind of connection with anyone else.
That's what is beautiful to me.
My friend is similiar but he's different.
I love education. My friend loves to learn and teach.
He's clean. He looks adorable in his button up cotton shirts and dark trousers.
The other bonus is that he keeps me from getting lost. I would never get anywhere if he wasn't always showing me the correct course.
Why doesn't he see how special he is because he's not like everyone else?
It means that he's not seeing the truth of who he is.
I can't be the only woman on the planet to appreciate him.
****
What is a league? I don't understand.
I really don't.
It's not about leagues.
It's about life.
It's about living.
Don't go through life playing dead.
Love ya,
S.