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Headgames (with edit)


Today I am thankful that I am a hypnotist who detests head games.


Last night, I invited Steve to call me for closure. 

He did.  He called after the hockey game ended.  His team was playing the Redwings.  I hate to tell him that my ex has the basement is decked out in Redwings stuff.  My in-laws hail from Michigan. 

I was a little upset about what I heard from him.  He likes to "kick the tires" to test the strength of his relationships.  He likes to grasp at straws and....oh, what did he call it.....ah...yes...."fishing."

So he makes up assertions and throws those in my face in order to get to know me better.  Addressing those assertions proved exhausting.

I don't like that.  Those are head games.  They upset me quite a bit.  They take time away from the getting to know each other naked, euphoric stuff that is supposed to happen during the early stages of a relationship. 

I told him that when I looked into his eyes the last time I saw him, it felt like he was scanning me and not finding what he wanted.  That creeped me out. 

Then when I reached up to touch his face and he pushed my hand away, I felt hurt and confused.

We were not connecting. 

Three days later, he sent me a series of emails claiming that I wasn't smart enough, educated enough and liberty loving enough for him. 

That pretty much confirmed what I saw in his eyes....I wasn't what he wanted.

Then he went to Facebook to bash me.  He had claimed that I called him names.  I was only referring to the tone of his emails.  The tone was abusive and harsh.  It didn't mean that he was abusive and harsh. 

Two weeks later, he wanted to work things out with me.  He sent me loving emails swearing up and down that he had done some soul searching and that he had changed.  It didn't take more than a week before he started to send me crazy emails with bizarre accusations in them. 

He went on to complain about me on Facebook.  He claimed he took in a wounded animal.  One of my FORMER friends went on to claim that I clawed Steve's heart out.  He doesn't know what actually happened because I will not talk about it to anyone but Steve.

That is triangulation.  That is emotional abuse.  My former friend was played a chump.

I couldn't take it anymore.  It is obvious that he blames me for the separation. 

I don't know....those emails.....made it pretty clear what he thought about me.  They made me question myself. 

Why should I stay with a man who doesn't want me?

He was everything I wanted....but I wasn't what he wanted. 

Alas, it is Friday.  I'm going to ask Isis to help Steve and I go where we are meant to go. 

I'll let ya know if I gain any decent insight.   

Good love is hard to find. 

Ending things is painful. 

I'm going to ask Aphrodite to find me a true love who wants to accompany me to my gigs.  I hate going to bars alone.

I'm hopeful he we will love me enough to learn to gain rapport with me naked.  The only games I want to play with his head will involve swallowing. 

I'll get through it. 

Love ya,

S. 

Next Day Edit:

I did not like what I saw in the visions. 

I do not believe them. 

Isis reminded me that I dyed my hair black.  Yes, I did.  It still glows red in the sunlight.  I used black henna.  I need a job.  People don't hire redheads as quickly as they hire brunettes.

I still don't believe what I saw.  Maybe I saw another guy that looks like Steve but doesn't use shame to harass me on Facebook. 

That is the issue.  He acts as though his emotions and thoughts my emotions and thoughts.  He assumes I act in ways that I don't.  He assumes that I feel in ways that I don't.  He assumes that I have motivations that I do not.  He uses shame to try to control me.  He does this in front of his few hundred friends....none of whom aspire to keep him warm at night and rub the knots out of his back.

Why would you try to tarnish someone you love like that?

He may feel that I think he is garbage.  He may feel like I threw him in the trash.  He may feel like I wounded him.  That is not reality.  His insecurities are causing him to engage in emotional abuse.  The only way to regain my sanity is to stay away until he gets help or stops playing games.   

This is not fixable without help. I can't be responsible for his behavior or his issues.  I can only take responsiblity for my end of things.  I don't want to be with someone who is constantly misreading everything I say and do.

There really is no easy way to fix emotional abuse in a relationship. 

I have to use compassionate detachment.  I love him -but- I cannot watch his Facebook feed.  I cannot read his emails.  Those are not who he is.  I love the man he is in person.  The man he is when he lets his guard down.  I like the man he is when nobody is watching.  If I saw more of that, maybe I wouldn't have been afraid to bounce up and down on him.

Steve kept calling me submissive.  When he drank, he grabbed my neck when he tried to kiss me.  I became terrified of kissing him. 

He seems to want control. 

I don't mind being submissive in the bedroom -but- I will be damned if a man messes with my goals, my money, or my aspirations again. 

I have an ex-husband doing that.  He doesn't need any help. 

Steve also wants someone ten years younger than he is. 

I tell you what....all that stress made my skin break out.  I looked old!!  My red locks started to go platinum.  I had a stress wrinkle develop between my eyes. 

I am finally beginning to look like my old self.  My stress wrinkle is fading. 

The man who I wind up with will fuck me enough to make my skin glow and never purposely do things that invoke that stress wrinkle!!! 

Life is hard enough without having to create drama. 

I'd rather fuck than argue.


I do wonder how much of Steve's email and Facebook attacks were due to insecurity over my ex still living here. 

Yes, it makes it hard to be in a relationship.  No, we do not have a romantic or sexual relationship.  Yes, we are friends.  No, I do not trust him and will never take him back. 


My friends and family are telling me that I am making excuses for Steve's bad behavior.  Am I?  Or am I just trying to see my role in it?


I will not see another man until he is out of the house.  Breaking up hurts too damn much. 



Love ya,

S.










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