Soon I would like to have a pain-free week.
By pain-free, I mean my heart. I wish I could just leave behind all the shit and all the men that cause me to cause myself pain.
^^ I chose those words carefully. In some cases, there is no intent on their part to cause me pain. It just happens.
Like this morning.
I take public transportation to work. Depending on where you live, you might call it the tube / metro / commuter train / subway. Whatever. I have only ever once run into someone I recognized from dating sites and he was a bailer who I had never met, so it was more funny than anything else.
Today, I get on the packed train car. I look around like I always do and lock eyes with none other than NIM (aka Naked Ironing Man). It doesn’t make sense to me and I do a double take. He doesn’t live north of me and he doesn’t take the train. Oh, wait. One of the last text messages he sent me was that he wasn’t responding to me because he was moving.
I look again. It’s him…I know this because he is looking at me too, a few times.
He doesn’t acknowledge me; not even a raised eyebrow or a small smile. I look down, fuss with my iPhone, and think about whether to smile or nod or try to squeeze over to see him – he’s about 20 feet away from me. A few minutes later he has adjusted his body a bit so we aren’t staring face to face. Um, okay…I figure he’s embarrassed at ignoring me. At a busy stop I end up further in the train car. I look over and realize why he didn’t acknowledge me.
He’s with someone.
A petite blonde with a ponytail. They are standing close together, albeit not talking. Her back is to me. He looks at me again and he sees me see him, and her.
And then the pain begins.
Why, you may ask?
I didn’t write about it, because quite frankly I was embarrassed to do so, but I had reached out to him a couple of times. Before that time, he said he couldn’t see me anymore because he needed time and space to focus on his health and his work. This from someone I saw incredibly rarely.
The first time I inquired about his health, which had been quite bad. When he was basically non-responsive, I suspected he had someone else in his life. I asked him point blank if it was okay if I reached out to him again, and instead of ignoring me (as I knew he was capable of doing), he said Yes, it was okay.
Fast forward a few weeks, when I reached out again. This time, I was having an emotional meltdown and quite frankly, needed to be comforted. There were a lot of complex things going on in my head. I reached out and used pretty desperate language, asking if I could see him, and in response I got:
“I’m moving. Can’t. Try to explain what the issue is.”
Which I did – I put myself out there in a vulnerable and honest way, explaining why I wanted to see him. I never heard back.
I sent one more text, that simply said “Why won’t you talk to me? :(“
Yup. I did that, and I’m not proud of it.
So there I am, stuck on a train with him.
I want to be the kind of person who thinks, oh, fuck him, his loss, and then moves on with their day. But that’s just not me. Instead, I go down this terrible rabbit hole of thoughts that end up hurting my heart. Such as:
- I guess it was me, not that he needed time and space, because he could have had me if he wanted.
- He never was willing to commute into work with me. He only stayed overnight on weekends.
- Obviously this is who he moved in with, yet he denied seeing anyone else during the whole time we were seeing together, even when it was infrequent. But that can’t be true because he wouldn’t move in with someone so quickly.
- Perhaps we was always seeing someone else. Perhaps I was a secondary relationship…which means my gut was wrong. Or I just didn’t listen to it.
I texted two girlfriends because that was better than texting him. After all, what was I going to say? I’m not going to get a positive response, let alone any response, from him. If there’s any part of him that thinks he treated me badly, then he already knows. And if he doesn’t, then any response I send to him just makes me sound like a crazy person and it won’t change the outcome.
I haven’t reached out, and I won’t. But I’m hurt.
Why couldn’t he just tell me the truth? I used to be a management consultant and would coach C-level executives that it is always better to share information, because in the absence of information, people will make up a far worse reality. Right now, I just don’t know what to believe.
The bottom line however is that I wasn’t what he wanted. And that never, ever, feels good.